Hourglass of Tears
by Lawi01
Summary: A mermaid tear can do more than just take and give life. Used correctly, it can turn back the clock. But in order to beat Barbossa and Angelica to this next supernatural prize, Captain Jack Sparrow must face his hardest challenge yet: parenthood.
1. Chapter One: Jack

Ah, Tortuga It had been too long since Jack had last set foot in this thriving coastal metropolis. And, of course, as Blackbeard's defeater, he expected no less than a very grand welcome.

Evidently, the weather didn't feel the same way.

Rain slid off Jack's hat as he stepped down. You could scarcely see the glowing lights of the town through the rain that bucketed down relentlessly. Ordinarily Jack didn't mind the rain too much: it had always had a strangely heroic feel to it, and it looked particularly impressive to be standing at the helm in a raging storm, standing stoically still and captaining the ship at all costs. But this rain was cold. It slid down his neck and made the kohl around his eyes run miserably so he looked like some kind of melting candle. Yes, the sooner he got out of this weather and into the warm tavern the better.

He set off through the rain, picking his path through the mud carefully and treading mostly on tiptoe, arms held out jauntily on either side to keep his balance. His crew laboured along behind him, slipping and sliding. Oh well. They were big boys. They could manage. Rubbing his eyes with his leather sleeve, Jack peered through the rain. He could vaguely make out the lights of the tavern now. Unless they were just a bunch of stupid fairies or something. Given the things he had been through, it would hardly surprise him if they were. Even a bunch of pesky midgets with wings were bound to get him involved in some cross-ocean race to find yet another mythical artefact.

Not today, though. Sure enough, the twinkling lights turned out to be nothing more than the flickering lights of the tavern. With a wolfish smile, Jack threw open the doors and stepped inside with a flourish. The water slid off his coat and dripped from his hair as he strode to the bar, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

Time to get to work.

The first tankard of rum was drained quickly enough. Jack smacked his lips and opened them once more to order another one, but before the word began to form in his throat another was slid across the charred wooden surface towards him. He looked at it curiously and let his gaze wander up the bar, where a suitably aged man with a weathered face and dreadlocks not unlike Jack's sat, half-concealed in shadow.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. As per usual, good old Dad had chosen to show up just when Jack needed him least. Needless to say, he probably had little more than a few lines of useless, cryptic advice to offer him. It was through experience that Jack had learned that whenever Captain Teague turned up, he was about to get himself pulled into yet another supernatural, life-threatening and in the end totally unrewarding adventure.

"'Allo, Jackie," he croaked from down there.

Jack nodded his acknowledgements and lifted the tankard to his lips. "Evening, Paps," he replied. Glancing into the tankard at the last minute, he noticed two things: firstly, that the tankard was half empty. Secondly, there was a fat cockroach happily doing the backstroke in what was left of the delicious drink. He put it down hurriedly; on second glance, he noticed a little line of froth on his father's moustache that looked curiously like rum.

"You look good," Teague continued, his leathery finger tracing meaningless patterns in the worn surface of the table.

Jack sniffed. "So they tell me," he replied. "Any scuttle buck for me or did you just drop in to say hello to your favourite son?"

Teague stared from beneath hooded lids. "You're my only son."

Jack shrugged. "I had always wondered," he admitted. "So I take it it's not the latter, then."

"Did you ever find the Fountain of Youth?" Teague continued, disregarding Jack's last remark. He had that hungry look in his eyes, that thirst for adventure Jack very vaguely remembered from the childhood he had mostly forced himself to forget.

Jack looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Haven't you heard the stories?"

Teague shrugged. "I wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth," he said simply, gesturing at the rum tankard near Jack's hand. "Are you going to drink that or not?"

"Not," Jack replied, nose wrinkled with distaste. He pushed it back to Teague's outstretched hand as though it were a leper's left toe. "If you must know, we did find it, but the Spanish destroyed it."

"Not before you killed Blackbeard," Teague reminded him pointedly.

Jack nodded. "I saved the last few drops for Blackbeard and his two-faced daughter."

"And the mermaid?" Teague leaned forward eagerly; Jack edged back uncomfortably, pulling a face. He couldn't really remember the mermaid that well.

"She was a queer one," he said at last. "Went off with a missionary, if I remember correctly."

Teague leaned forward conspiratorially, one finger outstretched. "I hear tell that you traded Blackbeard's life for his daughter's," he said in low tones.

Jack stiffened and looked down his nose at him. "What's that s'posed to mean?" he demanded sharply.

"You know what I mean," Teague chuckled. "You lied to Blackbeard to spare the girl's life, did you not?"

"I may have gotten the glasses mixed up," Jack said stiffly. "What's it matter? Blackbeard's dead, Angelica's probably dead and buried on her little island in the middle of nowhere. Everyone wins."

"You're on first name terms, I see," Teague commented drily.

Jack glared. "Do you have something to tell me or not?"

"It concerns your little wench," Teague began. "She's not as dead as you thought, it would seem. You're too soft, Jackie- you left her on a well-known trade route. She was picked up and taken back to England. She's a privateer with the East India Trading Company, now, and she's got an awful lot of influence. And she's looking for _you_."

Jack blinked. It had been much more straightforward than he expected. The news sank in- particularly the last part- and Jack wrinkled his nose in distaste. Teague chuckled in his shadows. "Bloody hell," he hissed through his multi-coloured teeth before standing and scampering away from the bar. Teague offered him a farewell salute; Jack did not return it.

The _Pearl's _crew had just reached the door when Jack opened it. They looked at him expectantly, but he just made a noise not unlike that a chicken might make and scampered past them, tip-toeing his way back down the muddy hill to the ship. With a collective groan, the crew turned and trudged back after him, the taste of rum that was never to be drank lingering on their tongues as they returned to the rain.

At least the rain had eased up a little, Jack reflected as he scampered down the hill, back to the docks. It would be easier to sail in this weather… But sail where? The seas were wide: it would take some time for Angelica to find him. At the same time, that meant she could be practically anywhere, just as he could be. And the East India Trading Company had its fingers in many pies; there were probably fewer places on land Jack would be able to go freely as he may have once been able to. He could lead Angelica to White Cap Bay and let her crew be devoured by mermaids… But the tower had collapsed, and the chances that he would die and Angelica wouldn't were too high. He could seek shelter from Elizabeth in Singapore… Ho hum. That was a rather good idea, now that he thought about it. In fact, the more he thought about it the better it sounded. Yes, he would go to Singapore. Remind Elizabeth he had saved her life, all those years ago, and also that she had taken his once. He could hide there until… Well, he would figure that out later.

As Jack moved down the pier, he noticed a familiar shape jutting out from the blackness. Perhaps 'familiar' wasn't the best term to use for it; 'vaguely similar to something he may or may not have seen from some distance away in a dream while drunk' may have been better. Jack slowed and cocked his head to one side, screwing up his face and squinting through the downpour to get a better look at this ship. A skeleton figurehead here, some funny-looking pipes sticking out the back, a few ghostly lamps… Rang a few bells here and there, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Forgettin' somethin', Jack?"

Oh, of course. It was the _Revenge_.

Jack turned on his heel and saw Barbossa standing behind him, leaning lopsidedly on his wooden leg. His weathered face was twisted in a sneer and his beetle black eyes twinkled in dim light. His shoulders twitched at random intervals: letting his eyes travel down, Jack saw a youth of some kind in his arms with a knife pressed to his throat. Through the rain he could vaguely make out a worn tricornered hat that had frankly seen much better days, and beneath that a seemingly never-ending cascade of dark, curly, dripping hair.

If there was ever a cabin boy with that much hair, Jack hadn't yet seen it.

Trying to mask the fact that Jack simply hadn't the foggiest idea what was happening, he flashed a smile in Barbossa's direction. "Evening, Hector. What's with the girl?"

"Give me yer First Mate and she walks," Barbossa replied scathingly.

Jack paused, mouth hanging open, before waving a finger in the wet air. "I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what it is you want."

"Yer First Mate!" Barbossa repeated, frustrated. "He memorised them charts before settin' them on fire durin' that Fountain business. It just so happens that I be needin' them charts about now, but if ye don't give the man ter me I slit her throat!"

Jack was instantly interested. If it was anything Barbossa wanted, he definitely didn't want him to have it. "What are you looking for?" he demanded defensively.

"That be none o' yer business," Barbossa spat.

"Alright, if that's how you feel," Jack said huffily, turning away. "But if you don't tell me I won't give him to you."

Barbossa tightened his hold on the struggling girl. "If you don't give him to me she gets the chop."

Jack flashed another grin and held up his bandaged hands. "Go ahead, mate. I don't know her."

Barbossa held her tighter, forcing her to stand a little straighter. "She claims to be yer daughter," he said cautiously.

Jack's mouth swung open and he stared, completely speechless for what may well be the first time in his life. The girl looked up, raising the dark brown eyes embedded in a nicely tanned face framed by soaking wet curls, plastered to either side. Her teeth glinted wolfishly in the little light that looked down on the odd trio.

"Hello, Dad," she grinned.


	2. Chapter Two: Evangeline

_Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who was held captive in a secret castle by an ugly hunchback with one eye and bad English. Even though the wicked hunchback constantly threatened her and told her that no-one would ever come to save her, the princess knew her brave father would break into the tower and save her one day…_

Yep. I totally meant for this to happen. Absolutely according to plan. Couldn't have gone better.

Sneaking aboard the Revenge had been relatively easy. The cabin boy let me in. It's amazing, how far a pretty face will get you. Nosied around a bit, trying to find a hiding place that had enough to keep me entertained and had enough elbow room. The thing with being a stowaway is that you can't reveal yourself until it's too late to turn around. It doesn't matter how many whippings you have to endure when you're caught: they still can't get rid of you. The rules are different if you're stowing away with a band of ruthless pirates, though.

Which was exactly what I was doing.

In my defence, it was the first time I had ever tried stowing away, so I could hardly be expected to be an expert. The monkey got me nicking an apple. God, that was a creepy monkey. And after the mangy monkey left the captain came, and boy was he angry. Uncommonly attached to his apples, as it turned out. Told him I was his daughter and what I wanted- whoops! Wrong captain. Nice going there, Evangeline. I suppose I should have figured out that he was kind of old to be my father, but I genuinely thought Sparrow had escaped on board the Revenge. Sorry, sorry, my mistake, terribly sorry. Too late now, though- he knew what I was after and he knew who my father really was.

So now here I am, standing in the rain with a sunburnt man with one leg holding a knife to my throat and staring the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow in the face for the first time.

What an interesting character! Smudged kohl running all down his face and making him look like some depressed puppy. A tricornered hat perched upon untamed dreadlocks woven with various beads and strings and other tribal-looking things. Tanned and bearded, the visible parts of his hands and wrists covered in tattoos and bandages and his fingers generously bestowed with rings. Long, swishing leather coat thrown over a shirt that may or may not have been white once upon a time and some well-loved trousers with the usual scuffed boots. Still quite young, and certainly energetic.

I would almost be proud to show this oddball off in public if I didn't already know what he'd done.

"I don't know her!" he squawks, pointing an accusing finger at me. Well thanks, Jack. Thanks a lot. "I've never seen her, I didn't even know-"

"I don't care about yer family history," the man holding me snaps, wriggling me about again as though to remind Jack that I'm still here. Whoops! There goes my hat. Wonder if Jack notices I have the same bandanna as him. "Will ye let yer daughter die or will ye give me Gibbs?"

Watching him very carefully. Don't give him Gibbs. I can get out of this little pickle on my own, just leave it to me and don't give him Gibbs. Wonder if he can read lips? Start mouthing the message very carefully: _Don't- give- him- Gibbs_… But he won't even look at me. Alright then, Mr Moody. Make the wrong decision. See where it gets you. Don't suppose I should have expected much else, considering his reputation.

Barnacle-Brain shakes me again. (Will you stop doing that?) "Make a decision, Jack. I be needin' them charts."

Jack's pondering it. Very carefully, as it would seem. You can tell he's tempted to just turn and run and interrogate Gibbs and leave me to die. Why wouldn't he? He doesn't even know who I am. He wouldn't care…

But I would really appreciate it if he did.

"Jack," I croak. "I would really appreciate if you could have a brainwave right about now."

Doesn't even spare me a glance. Probably still trying to deny this street urchin claiming to be his daughter exists at all.

Too bad, Mister. I'm coming with you, rain, hail or shine.

Buck backwards and throw my head into Barbossa's chest. The sound of bone on bone and the gasp as the air leaves his lungs. Yes! His arms loosen for a fraction of a second. I spring free, pushing off his knees. He falls back, wooden leg flailing uselessly.

Sprinting past Jack, who just stares at me dumbly. "Come on!" I cry exasperatedly over my shoulder. "We need-"

_Thwoooomp!_

You hear the sound of the cannonball tearing through the air before it hits the fragile wooden pier. A massive hole is torn through the rotting wood and my knees buckle: I grope for Jack for balance. He takes just enough time to straighten me (what a gentleman) before turning on his heel and scampering off. Look how he runs! Arms held out jauntily, high knees and tapping the ground on tiptoes. If my ears weren't ringing I'd be laughing.

No time for that, though. Taking off after him, skipping every now and again when another cannonball tears down just a little too close for comfort. God, Angelica, what are you doing? You'll kill _me_ if you're not careful.

A weak cough from behind me. Go, Evangeline, go… Nope. Too late. Flicking my head over my shoulder to look for the source of the pitiful sound…

It's Barbossa. He's falling into a hole torn into the wood by a cannonball, quite drenched already, wooden leg sticking up uselessly. He's covered in soot and little cuts and the fire's getting closer. He'll be fine, he can crawl into the water and get away… He wouldn't be able to swim, though. Not with that leg. And he's an old man…

No. Don't have time. Have to keep going, have to get to the _Pearl… _Too late. Watching my feet dragging me back the way I've come to Barbossa. Considering he was threatening me not two minutes ago, he looks so pathetic now, heaving and flailing about and trying to get himself out. I can't afford to stop- he's a merciless pirate- he's trying to get me killed…

Oh, damn it all to hell. What kind of human being would I be if I didn't help him?

He stares at my hand like it's a cockroach. A dead one, with maggots all over him.

"We don't have time!" Come on, stop being such a baby.

With a growl and an unhappy grimace, he takes my hand. Whoof! What a lump of man. Manage to pull him to his feet, barely. Help him regain his balance… Yes, he'll be fine from here. He's a big bad captain, he can manage.

Taking off after Jack again… What does the _Pearl _look like? Black ship with black sails, or so they say. How the hell am I supposed to find a black ship in this weather? I can scarcely see where the pier ends and the water starts. Hang on… What's this? A midget, waddling desperately to a patch of empty space, his bald little head glistening in the firelight. Take a moment to swallow a laugh- even I wouldn't stoop to laugh at a vertically challenged person- but pause when he starts rising up into the empty space.

_What the…_

Another explosion, another tremble. I fall onto my hands and knees, brushing my hair away out of my face. In the dancing firelight, you can just make out the curve of a grand black hull…

Yes! It's the _Pearl_!

Scrambling back to my feet and running the last few yards to the _Pearl_. Grabbing the first length of rope I see and start climbing- whoa! Nice timing there, Evangeline. Swinging helplessly from the rope as the _Pearl_ pushes away from the pier. The sails snap as they fill with air and suddenly we're speeding away from Tortuga and away from the cannonballs… And away from the _Glorifier_. Away from Angelica. Turing my body ever so slightly so I can face the pier again; salute stoically to the flames.

_I'll be back soon._

Until then… Well, I've got a bunch of pirates to deal with. Better get a move on.

Arms raised in convents don't tend to be particularly strong, so it's not really my fault that it took me half an age to get up that rope. By the time I get up there my arms are water. Who cares if there's a crew of ruthless pirates awaiting me? I'm pooped. Collapsing on the deck, chest heaving. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea… No. I have to. My life depends on it.

Strong hands around the arms and up we go. Swaying on my feet and brushing my hair out of my face to get a good look around. They don't look too bad. There's a short, fat-ish guy and a one-eyed lanky guy next to him. There's the broad-shouldered, grey-ponytailed First Mate and there's an old-ish guy with a parrot. The midget from before, straining to get a good look at me. They look all talk, if you ask me.

And the crowd parts, it must be Moses… But no. It's Jack, and his face is murderous.

Prepare yourself, Evangeline. There's a storm coming.


	3. Chapter Three: Jack

Jack shoved through the crowd brusquely, eyes locked onto the girl. He hadn't the foggiest idea as to how she had managed to get on board, but now that she was here he might as well make some use of her.

"You, girl," he snapped, waving a careless hand at her. She didn't look the slightest bit put off by this sudden change of surroundings. "What's your name?"

"Evangeline," she answered, loudly and clearly. She had a slight accent- it pricked at Jack's memory but he just couldn't put a finger on it- but thus far her English was seemingly impeccable.

"Evangeline what?" he said sharply. Her eyes were eerily familiar…

She looked up at him, irritatingly calm and collected. "Sparrow," she replied simply. "I'm your daughter."

He gave a short, good-natured snort and held up the finger of each hand jauntily in her face. He could feel the eyes of the crew watching him carefully, waiting with bated breath to hear his response to this strange girl. "You see, now I _know _you're lying because I don't _have_-"

"Yes, you do," she interrupted. The nerve of her! Reminded him of himself, a little bit. "But as far as I'm aware I'm the only one, so you don't need to worry about more kids popping up around the place claiming to be yours."

"Well, if I'm your f-fa-_fa_…" The word just wouldn't form on his tongue. She watched him, unimpressed, as he struggled before giving up unhappily. "_Parent_, who's your mother?"

Part of Jack didn't really want to know. Part of him already did.

The girl- _Evangeline_- snorted. "Come on, Jack. Surely you must recognize the hair, the accent?"

Jack's face wrinkled distastefully. "Angelica," he murmured.

The crew took in a collective gasp and there was a brief outbreak of muttering as Evangeline clapped her hands sarcastically.

"Congratulations, Daddy," she said drily. "How on earth did you figure that one out?"

Jack glared, first at her and then at the crew. They fell silent instantly… But somehow Evangeline just wasn't intimidated by him. In fact, as he stared her down, she shot him back with _exactly the same stare_. Of course- he had her eyes. He felt an uncomfortable twinge in his stomach and paused, uncertain of how to react. Was he proud? Was he unnerved? He'd rather not think about it.

His fingers twitched awkwardly at her for a moment and, one hand on her hip, she just gazed up at him expectantly. "Small one," he addressed her at last. "Come with me."

Jack spun on his heel and stalked off to his cabin. Evangeline watched him go with an open smile and raised eyebrows. She shook her head amusedly and followed him with a swagger in her step, ignoring the eyes that followed her as she moved. Jack tried to contain the self-assured swagger in his own step, trying to convince himself that he had absolutely no ties to this girl. Who knew, maybe he didn't. Maybe she was a distant relative, or maybe she just _happened_ to have a face that resembled what would happen if you grabbed Jack and Angelica's faces and physically squashed them together…

Moving around to his cluttered desk, Jack stared down his nose at her. She closed the door with a quiet, courteous click and stared right back, arms folded across her and one slim eyebrow raised quizzically. In the dim light of the cabin, Jack could see a small crucifix glinting at her throat. Brilliant. _Just _what he needed. Another missionary child.

"The story," he said shortly, as if the less he addressed her the less she would exist until she faded away altogether. "From the beginning."

Evangeline shrugged and sat down. Jack's brow furrowed. He hadn't invited her to sit down. "The beginning? Once upon a time there was a man called Jack looking for a brothel-"

"I know that bit," Jack snarled. In all honesty he'd rather not know it at all. "Where did you come from?"

Evangeline looked at him. "Didn't your father ever give you 'the talk'?"

Jack death glared her. She didn't even flinch. Intimidating her would be harder than he thought. "The story," he growled. "From when you were born."

"Well, after you left Angelica-" Here she took the time to give him a nice long death stare, as though by leaving Angelica he had done her a great personal wrong. "-She had to have the baby on her own. She left me in the convent where you met and went to find you, which inevitably lead to her finding her father. I grew up in the convent. They were about the take the skin off my back-"

"What, as some kind of religious festival?" Jack interrupted doubtfully.

Evangeline rolled her eyes. "No, as in they were about to whip me for nicking some food," she said matter-of-factly.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Some good Christian you are."

Evangeline shrugged. "Daughter of a pirate and granddaughter of the worst in the world. What more did you expect? I never claimed to be perfect."

Jack did not comment. Evangeline nodded with satisfaction and continued. "They were about to punish me when Angelica came in and told them I was her daughter. She took me back and I've been sailing with her since as Evangeline Avi- naturally we couldn't say 'Teach' or 'Sparrow' because they'd have our necks and she'd never have gotten her job with the Company." She glared at Jack across the table. "Not to mention the fact that we wouldn't tarnish our honourable names with yours."

The insult slid off Jack like water on a duck's back. "So you've been sailing with her and the Company for those months?"

Evangeline nodded. "And then a few months ago, we were in Barbados. We'd just come through a storm and we were restocking. I went looking for her and I found her in her cabin with a man from the island. They were just talking," she added hurriedly, eyeing Jack curiously. He rearranged his face carefully and wondered what his facial expression must have been communicating to cause her such alarm. Surely he hadn't been _angry _at the thought of Angelica with someone else. It was preposterous! "I was listening in. They…" Suddenly Evangeline seemed much older; she sighed and looked away sadly. "They were talking about a fabled hourglass, near White Cap Bay." Her eyes rose again and met Jack's. "Mermaid tears can do more than just give and take life. If you use them properly, they can turn back the clock. That's why it's close to the Fountain: extended lifespan _and _the master of time."

Jack was instantly interested. He had little regrets in his life and there were few things he would change, but Barbossa wanted it and Angelica was after it. Plus, discovering a time-turning hourglass might be useful. He could get _gold _for that, provided some stupid Spaniards didn't come in and spoil everything again.

Evangeline was oblivious to Jack's sudden intentness, though. She had drifted off and was beginning to look sorry for herself. "Angelica wants a tear to go back to the day you two met," she said softly. "And make sure it never happened. She wants to undo the day she met Jack Sparrow."

Silence fell. Jack stared. How was he supposed to feel about this? He shouldn't have cared, but he did. He felt a sudden hollowness in his stomach, the feeling he got when he hadn't eaten in a long time. He sagged and fell in a chair, staring vacantly into space. Snap out of it, Jack, she doesn't matter! But try as he might, he just couldn't convince himself it was true. For a few moments they sat there, father and daughter, staring off into space, reliving the parts of their lives that revolved around one Angelica Teach.

"I don't see why this bothers you," Jack said at last, trying to maintain his usual carelessness.

Evangeline came back to earth. "It _bothers _me because if you had never met I would never have been born!" she exclaimed. "She doesn't know that I know, though. I convinced her to sail to Tortuga, saying that she would have a better chance of catching you and the one-legged man there. I had already arranged to get the clothes off a beggar in exchange for my old dress. We…" Here she looked sheepish. "We thought you escaped on the _Revenge _so I snuck aboard there but Barbossa caught me but I panicked and thought it was you so I told him I was his daughter and a little bit about the Hourglass. He figured it would be on Gibbs' charts so he thought he could use me to get to you. And as for the attack-"

"You knew about that?" Jack gasped.

"It wasn't part of my plan!" Evangeline cried. "She must have seen you and Barbossa together and thought it was a good shot. I didn't mean for that to happen."

They stared each other down for a few more seconds. This girl certainly gave Jack a run for his money.

"And now here we are," Evangeline said eventually, not breaking eye contact.

Jack sighed airily. "Tell me, Eva… What was your name again?"

"Evangeline," she said, after an uncertain pause.

Jack sniffed. "Women have unreasonably long names."

"Men have unreasonably short ones," she replied with a shrug. "You were saying?"

Jack coughed and shook himself. "Now that you have told me everything that I need to know, why shouldn't I just throw you over the side now and find the Hourglass myself?"

Evangeline took a deep breath. "Because if you don't I will row back to Tortuga right now and tell Angelica where you are and only your remains will float to the Hourglass."

Jack pulled a face. He hadn't thought of that. "Unless I tie you up and throw you in the brig to starve," he suggested brightly.

"In which case you will lose your only information source on the Hourglass," Evangeline replied with a shrug. "I haven't told you the guidelines for use yet. If you stuff it up, it won't work."

Jack shrugged. "So? I'll try again."

"One of the guidelines is that it can only be used once a century," Evangeline continued. "If Angelica or Barbossa gets there before you or you stuff it up, we're screwed."

"So? It'll get all of your problems out of the way."

"Angelica has no way of finding the Hourglass," Evangeline continued as though Jack had said nothing. "Chances are she will be following us from a distance. Once she's figured out your game she will probably race ahead of you. All I know is, you, Barbossa and Angelica will probably all end up at the Hourglass at the same time."

"The way I see it we could beat them to it," Jack said with a shrug. "We don't need to weight ourselves down with a mermaid-"

"Yes, we do," Evangeline interrupted. "There is something I wish to change in my past."

Jack stared. "And what might that be?"

"The day Angelica heard about the Hourglass," she answered simply. Averting her eyes again, she added quietly, "I just want more time with her."

Jack shook off the sentimentality of it all and watched her suspiciously. She continued, oblivious: "Barbossa will probably want his leg back. Chances are he'll kill Blackbeard before he gets the chance to attack the _Pearl_, and who knows how that'll effect your past?" She looked up brightly, her eyes glinting with the same light Jack's father's eyes once had. "So do we have an accord?" she asked brightly, holding out a slim, elegant hand.

"Who said I'm taking you to the Hourglass?" Jack demanded.

"You did," Evangeline replied simply. "You already said '_we _could beat them to it'. And you know that it'll rebound on you somehow. Please?"

He looked at her hand suspiciously for a few moments before finally relenting it and shaking it as though it were a dirty rag. Evangeline beamed as Jack turned to the door. "Gibbs!" he barked. The First Mate stumbled into the room as if on cue; somehow Jack got the feeling he had been listening in.

"Tell me, Gibbs," he said dramatically. "When was the last time you cleaned your cabin?"

Gibbs looked instantly uncomfortable. "Eh… Time immemorable, Cap'n."

"'Immemorable' isn't a word," Evangeline piped in from the back.

"Gibbs," Jack barked. "You will sleep with the rest of the crew. Evangeline will sleep in your quarters."

Gibbs was aghast. "But, Cap'n-"

"Loathe as I am to admit it, Gibbs," Jack said in undertones. "I can hardly let a fourteen-"

"Fifteen," Evangeline corrected.

"-Girl sleep in the same room as countless men who haven't seen a member of the opposite sex since time immemorable," Jack continued. "Your cabin will be hers."

Gibbs sighed. "Very well, Cap'n." He turned to Evangeline. "Come, Miss. I will take you to your quarters."

"Thank you," she said politely, following him out. As he left the captain's cabin, Evangeline turned in the doorway and smiled at Jack. "Thank you, Jack," she added.

Jack smiled back craftily and saluted. "Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart."


	4. Chapter Four: Evangeline

_Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who was trapped inside a dark, stinky, wet cave. She stayed there for three days and three nights without any food or water or light. She waited and waited, and even though she was hungry and cold and scared she knew that it was only a matter of time before her beautiful mother, queen of all the known lands, would arrive and save her…_

I should have known better than to trust him. I can't believe I _actually thought_ he was being genuine! Of course he wouldn't give me the First Mate's cabin out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn't even _have_ a heart.

I mean, just look at the state of this place. It's worse than a pigsty. You can scarcely see the floor through the layers of accumulated rubbish from God knows when. And it's dark. And cold. And small. And stale. And there's a leak around here somewhere, but I just can't find it. It's been annoying me since… Well, I'm not sure how much time has passed since Jack shifted me into this dump. I should have known it was a punishment in disguise. Well, sorry for being born but it wasn't my fault.

I'm beginning to wish I was with the rest of the crew. At least then I would know what was tugging at the ends of my hair.

Still… At least Jack is taking me to the Hourglass. I knew once I put Barbossa and Angelica in the equation and made it sound like a competition I had him hooked. I'm no idiot, Sparrow- I did my research. After all, what kind of daughter meets her father for the first time without even a little bit of background knowledge?

_Father_… God. I don't even know if I'll be able to tolerate him as a father long enough for this to work. Then again, given his socially deflective character he'll probably just treat me as a crew member as opposed to a family member. I suppose I could live with that. I won't have to talk to him too much while I'm here, will I? If I'm just working on deck, I'll be too busy to talk to anyone. Whatever happens, I _can't _let myself get attached to him. Let him get attached to me, sure- that's all part of the plan. But he's _not _my father. I can't think of him that way. I have to use him, the way he uses everyone else.

Sorry, Mister Sparrow, but I'm not going to let you use _me_.

xXx

"Miss Sparrow!"

Jesus! Oh Jesus, that light. What's happening? I can't see-

_Thwump._

Oh yes. I remember now. On the First Mate's floor, blinking into the harsh sunlight pouring in from the now open door. What time is it? I swear I only just shut my eyes. Yes, yes, Gibbs, I'm up. Leave me to look like a mess in private.

Hang on… You did _not_ just call me Miss Sparrow. Opening my mouth to object, but… The door's shut, and it's dark again. The nerve of that man! I'll skin him alive for that!

Can't do it looking like this, though. I've never been a morning person.

Now, let's see… No mirrors around here, or brushes for that matter. No surprises there, either. I'll probably have to get rid of most of this hair by the time we reach White Cap Bay… Until then, _up_ it goes. You'll just have to trust the voice in your head when it says you look as stunning as you always do, Evangeline.

Stepping out onto the deck. You wouldn't believe it was raining at all yesterday, given this blinding sun. It's a pretty picture, mind: sun high in a cloudless sky, the blue waves rolling underneath like nothing's wrong. I could get used to this, considering the _Glorifier_ ever only sailed to boring ports like England and Ireland and Germany. All fog and no fun.

And there's Jack, standing heroically at the helm with a razor sharp weather eye fixed on the horizon. Wind blowing his dreadlocks back and making his coat flap about his ankles.

I swear the man must never get any sleep.

All those months on the _Glorifier_ weren't spent hanging around and sipping tea like a lady, though. I watched the crew enough times to know how to do it all myself, and I'm not going to waste that knowledge now. It's not every day you get to sail on a pirate ship with your pirate father.

And I could try to deny it, but I know that part of me wants to make him proud.

The deck is soaked with water and a few other crewmembers are scrubbing away. I won't be wasting my time there, thank you very much. But then again… There's not much else going on at the moment. I suppose I could just dilly-dally around until something happens… Like on the rigging. I've always wanted to climb up a ship's rigging. It's kind of hard to do in a big lacy dress and it was frankly unheard of aboard the _Glorifier_, but when you've got a pair of trousers and a pirate ship anything's possible.

No point hanging around- let's get a move on. Into that incredible morning sun (reminds me a bit of Barbados, actually) and across the soaked deck- and the men scrubbing it. Whoops! Excuse me- so sorry- don't give me that look, it's your fault your fingers got in the way of my boot- _ta-da_! Free, and not an arm's length away from the rigging.

Up we go. As high as I can, then swinging out off one arm and admiring the view. There's not much to see, mind- an identical stretch of blue spanning out in all directions- but God, it's beautiful. The blues, the greens, the way the sun winks off the crest of each small wave that waxes and wanes. And the salty wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the rope beneath my boots. It's an incredibly relaxed feeling. I could live here, you know. Just anchor a well-supplied ship and float meaninglessly for a glorious lifetime.

I'm beginning to see why Jack fell in love with the sea instead of Angelica.

"Evangeline!"

Would you look at that. At long last, Captain Jack Sparrow has managed to remember his daughter's name. Still won't spare me a glance, though, and his tone is less than affectionate, but it's a start.

_Plonk!_ Back on the deck, picking my way through the crew members once more and moving back to the helm where good old Dad awaits. Gibbs stands behind him, eyes trained on the horizon (a bit like Jack's). Good to see we're getting a move on so quickly. Provided Gibbs has actually managed to remember the route correctly.

God, I hope he has.

"Morning, Captain." Brightly. You can tell he likes the sound of 'captain' over 'father'. Might as well get on his good side while I can.

"Evangeline, it has come to my attention that until we should arrive at our destination you are without set purpose on this here lovely vessel," Jack begins grandly, totally disregarding me. Something tells me he's rehearsed this.

"I know how the ship works," I pipe in. "I've watched the crew back on the _Glorifier_ enough to know."

"A ship is no place for a woman," Jack presses on, as though I've said nothing.

"It's bad luck, too," Gibbs adds gruffly, taking a hearty swig from a hip flask. Ignore the superstitious old man, Evangeline. You grew up in a Spanish convent. You should be used to them.

"But we can certainly find a place for you in the kitchen," Jack finishes brightly, looking at me for the first time all morning, eyes all big and innocent and cheery.

_Excuse_ me?

"Who are you to-to- to just cart me off wherever you please? I am _not_ a helpless stupid girl who is only good for the kitchen, I can help out anywhere just as much as I could there-"

"Daddy knows best," Jack mumbles gruffly before grabbing my wrist and dragging me down from the helm, across the deck (what are you staring at, One-Eye?) and down below. Trying to fight, but he's strong- not to mention stubborn. Damned if I know where we're going, but suddenly we're in a steamy room even smaller than Gibbs' cabin, were it possible. The steam clears and a youth appears, and to be frank his isn't the most beautiful face I've ever set eyes on.

A shock of wiry red hair planted at the top of a long face, home of a black pair of squinting eyes, a long crooked nose and a mouth that hangs slightly agape. An unreasonably long thin neck attached to a gangly network of disproportionate limbs covered by some unhappy scraps of clothing. He's got more acne on his left cheek alone than I've had birthdays and long, tapering fingers. The patches of his skin that aren't covered in acne have more freckles than is probably necessary.

He can scarcely be older than me.

"This is Roquefire, our newly recruited cook." (Roquefire? _Roquefire_? I didn't know you could even set rocks on fire.)

He extends a freckly hand. His nails are cracked and dirty. "Rocky," he says. His voice drips with years of backstreet London. "Pleased ta mee' ya."

His hand is cold and clammy. I can't be the only one here who doesn't want _this_ guy's fingers in my food.

Jack claps my shoulder and pushes me closer to the spindly carrot man. "Feed her up and set her to work," he instructs, as though I'm not even there. That festering little maggot! I'll be making doubly sure to spit in _your_ next meal, Captain.

The door slams shut and it's just me and Rocky. He's staring at me like I'm some kind of overgrown bug, but then I suppose that must be the only facial expression he's capable of.

"'Oo're you?" he asks at last. "I 'en't seen youse before."

(Well, I don't suppose you'd get much time on deck, given that complexion of yours.)

What to say, what to say. Do I tell him the truth? No. Not all of it. Just the censored version. I can't risk him telling someone.

"Evangeline," I say at last. "I'm Jack's daughter."

His bushy eyebrows rocket up in surprise. "Cor!" he exclaims. "I di'n' even know 'e 'ad a daugh'er!"

Shrug. "No-one except my mother and I knew until last night."

Rocky whistles through his crooked teeth. "Well, there's sumfink you don' see every day, eh?"

"Mmm."

"Wha' chu 'ere for, then?" he asks suddenly. "Family reunion?"

"I need Jack's help." Stiffly. Rocky gets the message and doesn't press for details.

"You eaten yet?"

"No."

"I can fro' sumfink together, if ya like."

"Thank you."

He disappears into the steam. Surely there must be a stool around here somewhere… There we go. Now that my eyes are used to it, I can make out vague shapes. A table, a bench, some shelves over a small tub. It's a pretty well-equipped kitchen, as far as pirate ships go. And Rocky seems pretty harmless. I just hope his cooking is better than his breath.

Friendly cook or not, though, I'm not going to let Jack think he can push me around and keep me shut up down here. _I'm_ the one who told him about the Hourglass, _I'm_ the one who's risking my neck by telling him Angelica's movements and without me he'll just stuff everything up! Just you wait, Jack Sparrow. I'll be back to bite you in the arse like a freaking crocodile.

But for now, Rocky's got some beans and bacon. They don't look too bad, mind, and it's not like I'm sleeping in a dormitory so I can let my bowels lose as much as I like later. No cutlery so it looks like I'm using my fingers.

Rocky stares as I eat. Sorry, mate, but there's no time to be a lady, especially if you haven't eaten since the previous morning. Considering I've never done it before, getting bossed around by your father really takes it out of you. The food's a far cry from what we got on the Glorifier, but it's better than nothing.

The plate's empty in about two minutes flat.

I suppose it's time to get to work.

xXx

"…So then, because Cap'n Jack stole some of the treasure, he was immor'al for a while too and i' was a big figh' between Barbossa and Jack and Will and Elizabeth were figh'in' Barbossa's crew and then Jack shoots Barbossa, which seems stupid bu' i' turns ou' Jack returned his piece o' the treasure and Will used his blood to finish the ritual so then Barbossa's go'a take i' like a man, righ', 'cause he ain't immor'al no more."

Pause. "So Jack basically lied to everyone so he could live long enough to kill Barbossa."

Rocky smacks his lips and nods. "Yep."

"But that makes no sense," I say, turning to face him and leaning against the bench. "Barbossa was threatening to kill me just lastnight."

Rocky grins slyly. "That's 'cause 'e was brough' back ta life by the sea goddess Calypso to save Jack when 'e died."

Well. That's certainly something Angelica never told me. "When did Jack die?"

"Well, ya see, when Jack was eaten by the Kraken during tha' 'ole Davy Jones business-"

"Hold up there, Rocky." Laughing. "You haven't finished with the whole _Black Pearl_ business yet."

"And you 'aven't finished wif them dishes," he replies pointedly. "I'll finish my story if you finish them dishes."

Yesterday I was Evangeline Avi, daughter of well-respected privateer and rather well-respected myself. Today, I'm Evangeline Sparrow, daughter of the quirkiest pirate I have ever heard of, hearing all about his past endeavours and washing dishes for his improvised crew. He's a sly bugger, I'll give you that. And by the sounds of it he's made more daring escapes than I've got fingers and toes. And, if I heard correctly before (I'm beginning to get used to Rocky's rough accent) he's been to Davy Jones' locker and back again.

He might be a bastard, but you've got to admit- he's pretty cool.


	5. Chapter Five: Jack

Jack tossed the empty bottle down dismissively. They were out of rum. Again. And it was much too late to stop into port now to get some more- they were a mere three days away from White Cap Bay, which was a shame because Jack would need rum more than anything once he started dealing with Evangeline properly. As much as he tried to deny it, he knew he couldn't avoid her forever. He could deny that his blood ran in her veins, and that when he looked at her his eyes stared back, but he couldn't keep treating her like a dumb animal and he knew it.

She was going to be a problem. All women were, and small ones were even worse. Not only did she have his pirate blood, but she also had that of Angelica Teach's. It had been two days since she had snuck aboard, an on the odd occasion she ventured out on deck to move between her cabin and the kitchen she would occasionally catch his eye. He could see in the looks that she gave him that she knew something he didn't. She was just like Angelica, like a cat watching him through the grass with full anticipation of his next movement and waiting to strike. Jack could only guess as to what she would do when she acted, but when she did he would be ready.

Hopefully.

Speaking of Angelica… What would he do if he were to meet her at this Hourglass? Act his usual cool self, no doubt. Of course, being the complicated teenager that she was, Evangeline was bound to cause some sort of problem. After all, they had a child. Did that change their insane love-hate relationship at all? She _had _been an accident, after all. Jack couldn't make himself go as far to call Evangeline a mistake, but he knew for a fact she was unplanned. So did Angelica hate him even more now because he had left her with a broken heart _and _a baby? Somehow he couldn't bring himself to believe it. Evangeline adored Angelica, so she must have treated the girl with some degree of love. And it wasn't like Evangeline was a bad kid. She was just… lost. And she had never had a proper parent while she was growing up to steer her in the right direction. She was more accustomed to her own company than anyone else's, too- he could tell in the blunt, apathetic way she dealt with people. All she needed was a proper parental figure to show her what was what. Would Angelica be angry at him for not bonding with her for the brief time she was in his care? It wasn't like she had a viable argument- she _had _abandoned Evangeline at birth. Then again, Jack had abandoned both of them. None of it should matter to him, though, because he was a pirate and pirates loved only the sea and cared only for rum, not trivial things like women and their feelings.

Jack shot to his feel. He hadn't thought about anything this deeply in a very long time. It must have been the rum, or the lack thereof. Some salty night air would clear his head.

The air was warm and the night was dark. A few stars were thrown across the sky over his head. The sails flapped serenely in the breeze and the waves lapped against the hull gently. A few lanterns burned across the deck, but otherwise it was empty.

A figure stood at the helm, legs spread apart and arms gripping the wheel tightly. Jack wouldn't have known who it was if it weren't for the lantern swinging nearby, illuminating parts of her face at even intervals.

Plus, he could never have missed the thick mass of curly hair fluttering behind her.

Jack closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose pettily. "Evangeline," he called wearily.

"Aye, cap'n!" she called back brightly, grinning down at him from the helm. He looked back at her pointedly and her eyes widened innocently.

"Cotton said I could!" she cried.

Jack's eyebrows lifted as he glanced at the tongueless pirate lounging nearby. Upon meeting Jack's eyes, he shrugged helplessly.

Evangeline's eyes fell and she shifted her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. "At least, that's what I figured the parrot meant by 'avast, ye scurvy dogs'…"

In Evangeline's defence, Cotton's new parrot had proved to be rather filthy-mouthed and it was somewhat difficult to translate its many insults.

Still.

Jack waved a weary hand at her and turned back to his cabin. Evangeline rolled her eyes and pushed away from the wheel, stomping down onto the deck and into the cabin after him. Her arms folded across her chest, she looked at him and waited.

"Look," Jack said firmly. "I don't know how Angelica ran things aboard her barnacle bucket but here being the captain's daughter doesn't give you any privileges or rights to put yourself above everyone else."

Evangeline looked away and snorted. "I kind of figured that out for myself, funnily enough."

Jack ignored her and shooed her off with a flap of his hands. "Good. Now run along and go do something feminine."

And just like that Evangeline exploded.

"I am _not _just some- some brainless _animal _ you can cart around however you like to your heart's content!" she exclaimed angrily. "I _know _how to tie a knot and I _know _how to hoist a sail and I _know _how to steer a ship. I'm not just some brainless little girl in silk dresses who hasn't done a day's work in her life and needs some kind of protection in the goddamn kitchen! I could fight if you taught me how, and I would- I'm not just a scared kid. I've done things, seen things. Not a lot of things, but I'm not the sheltered little brat that you treat me to be! I'm your _daughter, _for God's sake!"

"You don't know that," Jack replied smartly. "She could have had a child with anyone."

"No, Jack, you blind miserable sod. Don't you get it? She loved you. She couldn't sleep with anyone else after you. You hurt her."

Jack stared. "How do you even _know _that?" he demanded.

"She told me," Evangeline replied simply.

"She could be lying," Jack replied with a shrug. His back was to her now; he was examining a map on his wall. Or, rather, pretending to.

"She cares about me, she wouldn't-"

Jack rolled his eyes. "She left you and now she's trying to make sure you were never born," he reminded her.

"At least _she _came back!" Evangeline replied, stung.

"I didn't even _know_-"

"You wouldn't have cared, anyway."

Oh God. She was crying now. Women were bad enough without tears. Jack said nothing.

"I know," Evangeline continued, voice trembling with supressed emotion. "I can see it in the way you look at me. I'm a nuisance to you. Do you think I'm stupid? I know I wasn't supposed to happen. I know I'm just a mistake. But I'll tell you something, I've spent two back-breaking nights making Gibbs' room inhabitable and for no reason other than that you turfed me there as punishment for just _being _here! Well you know what, captain, it's not my bloody fault. I didn't _ask _to be born. If you want to blame someone for my existence go right ahead and blame yourself. If it weren't for you I wouldn't be breathing right now."

"It wasn't _just _me!" Jack argued feebly, turning around. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet but her face was firm. She wouldn't open the floodgates until she was alone. "Angelica was- _involved _too."

"She loves you, Jack," Evangeline almost whispered, voice faltering. "To her… I'm as much as an accident to her as I am to you. As far as she's concerned, I'm the last piece of you she's got left to hold on to. Do you have any idea how rejected it makes me feel to know that she only keeps her daughter close to pretend she's still got a little bit of the man she loves? Do you know how- how _hard _it is to try to convince her to move on? When you left her, Jack, you dragged her into this- this _hole _where she can't go a day without thinking about you and seeing my face only makes it worse. She loves you, Jack, but she knows she'll be in a hell of a lot less pain if she had never met you. And now she's getting rid of both of us because _you _hurt her."

What a blow. Jack's supposedly non-existent conscience cringed. "Evangeline-"

"You know, when we changed our name I suggested Cardelos," Evangeline reminisced vacantly. "It sounded more natural, more Spanish. But she insisted on Avi."

Jack sniffed and attempted to rearrange his apathetic mask. "So?"

Evangeline looked at him with his eyes. Despite the hurt on her face, they were frighteningly serene. "It's Latin for 'bird', Jack," she said quietly. "She didn't think I'd pick up on it, but we had to learn it at the convent. Think about it."

Silence descended between them. They held their gaze for a moment longer until more tears sprang to Evangeline's eyes and she backed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her. Her thudding footsteps as she ran down the deck echoed in the ringing silence.

Jack groaned and collapsed in his seat.

So much for clearing his head.


	6. Chapter Six: Evangeline

**A/N: I'm not sure if this is completely necessary, but I'm paranoid so I'm saying it just in case: this chapter may offend some practising Christians. It's not the desired effect and it wasn't written with that in mind, but if you don't like it don't read it. Also, I'm an atheist so any Biblical references could be completely wrong because I haven't exactly read the Bible from cover to cover and I can't find a copy to reference it with, so I'm sorry about any incorrect details. Just so we're all on the same page.**

_Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived in a horrible world. Her birth was a mistake and neither of her parents wanted her and every adult she ever knew used her for their own personal gain. She led a horrible life and no-one would ever save her from it. The end._

For God's sake, Evangeline. Pull yourself together. I haven't cried since… since I was six. I remember- I was crying because Jania had taken my apple. Sister Karina reminded me that Jesus never cried when he was being crucified and that we couldn't cry for our own petty human problems when Jesus hadn't shed a tear in the face of torture and death. As I grew older and I started losing faith in any God it became a question of pride. All of the other novices had been put in the convent by choice by their parents. They had always told me- reminded me, more like- that I was unwanted and crying had only ever made it worse.

Too late now, though. The tears are flowing, but it's just as well there's no-one around to see it. I'll go to the kitchen- Jack won't look for me there. The last thing I want to do is talk to _that _miserable little maggot.

_Bang_! I don't care if I wake someone up. That door is opening whether it wants to or not. Might as well close it aggressively while I'm here- make sure people get the message.

"'Vangeline? 'S tha' you?"

Oh hell. Rocky's still here? Awake? At this hour? The steam's particularly thick now: I can't see him so hopefully he can't see me. Can I just pretend I'm not here? Yeah, right. My nose is running and if I don't sob or break something soon I'll explode. Not to mention my tremendous entrance just now. No, I'll just have to talk to him.

Dammit.

"S- sorry, Rocky." Sniffing and wiping my face. Hold it in, Evangeline. We've got an audience. "Did I wake you up?"

"Naw. I was just star'in' on breakfast."

Silence for a beat. Chop-chop. Sniffle.

"You alrigh', 'Vangeline?"

Sniff. I can feel a sob building in my chest. God, I need to get out of here. "Yeah." Understatement of the century.

Silence. Chop-chop-chop. What's he up to over there? I hope it's Jack's fingers. I'd eat them any day, lightly grilled and stuffed with saffron and sprinkled with almonds.

Yum.

"Did you ever know your parents, Rocky?" The words are out before I can stop them. Terrific. Not only am I crying, I'm about to have a pity confessional with the guy who's practically my boss.

"Naw. Me mam died when I was born and me pa died in a carriage accident no' long after. I was raised by my uncle, bu' 'e was a sailor so mostly I fough' for meself in the ci'y."

Harsh life.

"I only just found mine." (Just in case you wanted to know.) "It's… It's weird, because even though I know they're both bastards who want to get rid of me as soon as possible- they're my parents, you know? They hate each other but they love each other in a weird way too but as far as they're aware I'm just part of the other and so they treat me the same way they treat each other- which is rotten, by the way- and I've spent my entire life alone, and now I've suddenly got this pair of- well, moderately impressive parents and all I want to do is make them proud because I just want to know what it's like to have someone care about me and-"

Stop Evangeline. Shut up now, before you make things worse.

But… You've got to admit, that was a pretty moving speech, in a way. I don't even know where half of that came from. I've always known that I'm just the drunken mistake of two strangers, ever since I was old enough to get a grasp on these things. I've always known that if I was wanted I would have a home by now and that there was no point staring out the window hoping for someone- anyone- to come waltzing down and claim me. I've always known that no-one wanted me. I've always known it, deep down, but I never admitted it- not even to myself. And then it just came out. The feelings of rejection and longing and frustration. And to Jack and Rocky. Fantastic. Of all people to cry in front of, it just had to be them. I spent half my life training myself to be stoic and emotionless, and now here I am crying. I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have even gone out on deck to the helm. I should have just kept my head down and done what I was told… Yeah right. Since when have I ever been one for blind obedience? I should have known it would end in tears one day- quite literally, as it would seem. How very embarrassing.

Silence for a beat. Then:

"I see." Rocky, ever the sage. Then: "So, uh, why you tellin' me all this?"

Looking at him through bloodshot eyes. "Because as sad as it sounds, you're the closest thing I've ever had to a friend."

Silence. Rocky's cutting stops for a second, then picks up again with a startled jolt. Oh God, oh God. I need to get out of here because I say something _really _stupid.

"Do you, ah, need a hand with breakfast?" Trying to keep my voice steady. It's a real challenge.

"Oh- uh, no," is the jerky response. Probably hasn't heard anything so pathetically sentimental his entire life.

"I'll… I'll leave you to it then." Easing towards the door. Don't want to seem too eager…

"It don' sound comple'ely stupid," he says suddenly. I freeze, halfway through the door. One foot trembling in mid-air. "I en't never 'ad a friend before either."

What am I supposed to say? Nothing, that's what. My throat's too tight- because of my messed-up family, mind, not Rocky. If I close the door quickly enough he'll think I'll have left before he got to say anything.

God. I can't hold on any longer.

Throwing caution to the wind and sprinting up to the deck and into the cabin, tears streaming down as free as you please. _Bang _goes the door, _thud _go my knees on the floor.

I thought telling someone my problems was supposed to make everything better. Admitting them out loud just makes it all seem so real and it unleashes this whole new flood of sub-problems and mini-complications I hadn't thought of before. This is stupid, so stupid. I should have just accepted that I was going to cease to exist when I heard that foul man talking to Angelica. I always knew it would come to this, ever since the day I met Angelica. I'm just the reminder of what she and Jack could have been together- painful and reassuring. Not reassuring enough, and I knew that. But I just told myself that she was my mother and she would care for me like all mothers were supposed to. Mothers like that only exist in fairytales, and my life is no fairytale. My life is an accident. I'm a mistake. The girls back at the convent were right- no-on'e ever cared about me. Angelica only came back for me because she needed me as a tool to get what she wants- to erase the black marks in her history. After all, she can't regret it if it never happened.

Why is this even happening to me? The nuns always told us that God values all life, but what kind of value is being put on my life? That's why I stopped believing in the Big Man: I didn't believe any heavenly, almighty power would damn a poor girl to a loveless life of abandonment and carelessness and then claim that He valued it. It's just not fair.

Tearing the damn cross from my neck and flinging it across the room. Thanks for nothing, you stupid deity. Ten years of worship and what do I get? A mother who doesn't really want me and a father who is trying to convince himself I don't exist- and soon enough I won't. You have a mean sense of humour.

Beginning to have second thoughts about the Hourglass. Beginning to think I won't go at all and just wait for myself to disappear. Screw the plan- on the likely chance it doesn't work it won't matter anyway. Angelica gets what she wants, Jack saves himself some time and I get to ditch this rubbish life without having to take it myself.

Crawling into bed and squeezing my eyes shut; still the tears leak out. Going to sleep with shaking shoulders and a drenched pillow.

xXx

_Knock-knock-knock. _

Ah yes. Gibbs' warm-hearted wake-up call. We've really bonded, these past three days. We've gone from weary 'good mornings' to a loving knock on the door.

Not that I need it. My life is already so full of love and laughter. Plus, I've been awake for a few hours now. Not crying- that finished a long time ago, thank God. I've just been lying here on this uncomfortable excuse for a bed staring at the wall. Hot face, but that's about it. I can't feel anything. I've totally zoned out. A few swollen knuckles from where I've punched the walls and some puffy eyes and an essentially crushed state of mind, but no worse for wear. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for another day of unrewarding work in the life of Evangeline Avi. Never mind that I feel like I've been dragged by the ankles across every single barnacle on this godforsaken rust bucket for twelve hours. There are dishes to be cleaned, meals to be prepared, food to be spat in.

Parents to be hated.

Dragging a few numb fingers through my hair and wiping my face with a sleeve before rolling it up again (which, admittedly, probably isn't such a swell idea, given that my face and arms are even browner than usual). Everyone else on this damn vessel is filthy anyway- they shouldn't spare me a second glance.

Time to get to work.

Funnily enough, the view hasn't changed at all. The mermaid bay place is supposed to be coming into view later this evening, and from there it's a matter of hours (or so I'm told).

Not that it'll matter in the end. If I can bring myself to even _look_ at Jack without wanting to hit him I'm telling him it's off. He can go squander as many riches as he likes and then come back to his ship to discover an empty cabin and a clean past where two Spanish women would be. So sorry to waste your time, but I stand by my statement that every single thing that has happened in my life is your fault.

"Evangeline!"

You've got to be kidding. The nerve of him! How dare he even consider speaking to me! Pivoting on my toes to glare at him. At the helm once more, with Gibbs faithfully in tow. Nailing him with my all-powerful death glare- and faltering when he actually meets my eyes. He never looks at me.

"Roquefire can manage on his own," he calls down from the helm. "We'll need you on deck."

Holding the stare for a little longer… Is he joking? No. No, he's not. Slamming the hatch shut and storming off. I won't be wasting spit on you, Captain Sparrow. Besides, I already know this has to be another punishment in disguise. I know working on deck isn't all sunshine and daisies. But I also know that the kitchen will always be waiting. You can work me to the bone and I won't utter a single whimper. Sorry, but it'll take more than that to crack me, and it'll take plenty more to get into my good books. I'm not stupid, Jack.

"Oh, and Evangeline."

What do you want now, you rotten little maggot? "Yes, captain?" Squeezing the words out through gritted teeth.

"You'll be needing this."

And in a single deft movement he plucks his hat from his head and tosses it down to my hands.

xXx

So. This is lunch.

Jack wouldn't even let me eat with the crew, but now I suppose I'm part of it so here I am. Somehow all the pirates manage to cram themselves around the tiny table, and somehow all the plates and bowls manage to fit. I'm squashed between Pintel and Ragetti, and at the moment they seem to be having a competition to see who can choke down their meal the fastest. I'd say 'food', but if I'm honest it doesn't look remotely like anything edible. It's probably because I'm not the one preparing it anymore.

The morning on deck wasn't so bad, I suppose. I hate to admit it, but the hat went a long way. Kept my hair out of my face and the sun out of my eyes and the water out of my mouth. My hands are killing me and my muscles are throbbing, but it's satisfying work. Plus, I'll have a killer build once I'm done here, and no-one will dare to mess with me again. And, of course, not a single complaint uttered. I could tell Jack was watching me the entire time. Whenever I looked at him he was gazing heroically off at the horizon again or examining a compass, but I know he had only just looked away. Too bad, Sparrow! I'm tougher than you think.

He's watching me now, too. He doesn't usually eat with the crew (or ever, for that matter- I don't think I've ever seen him devour anything but rum) but here he is, sitting at the head of the table and watching me carefully over his fork. _Please._ I'm not scared of the big bad One-Eye and his fat buddy. If anything, their married couple style squabbles will be the thing that kills me, and at the moment their mouths are too full of food for much squabbling. Plus, I can mimic that death glare of yours to perfection. Just one look and they'll be fleeing for the hills with their tails between their hairy legs. If you're trying to scare me off, Sparrow, you'll have to try harder than that.

Having said that, though, it doesn't seem like he's being spiteful this time. I mean, it's obvious he's being cautious with me and he'll take me out the second he thinks I'm at the end of my tether, but he's mostly keeping his nose out of it. It's a strange concept, but I'm beginning to think he might actually be being genuine. Unless he's just trying to get into my good books. It's impossible to tell with him. I'll have to be careful.

"Oi, 'Vangeline."

What-? Who-? Oh. It's Rocky. How'd he creep up like that? I didn't hear a thing. Of course, with Pintel and Ragetti slobbering away on either side it's kind of hard to hear anything, but still.

The cook somehow manages to squish himself in between myself and Ragetti. Ragetti shoots him a death glare but Rocky doesn't see. It doesn't make much of a difference, if you ask me- his backside is so scrawny an ant could probably show him up.

"Wha' 'appened ta you?" he demands. "You didn' come ta work this mornin'. You alrigh'? I mean, you weren' exactly tops lastnight-"

"I'm fine, Rocky." Cautious glances around the table, but I don't think anyone heard. "Jack wants me working on deck now."

Rocky's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really? But I though' you said-"

"I know what I said." Keep your bloody mouth shut, will you! "He's acting… funny."

Rocky extends his neck and stares at Jack, all the way down that end. It's at that point I realise that I'm staring at him too, and look away before he sees me.

"Wha' d'you reckon 'e's playin' a', then?" he asks.

Unwillingly, my eyes are dragged back to Jack's face. He's apparently preoccupied, but God only knows what's got his attention for the moment.

"I don't know."


	7. Chapter Seven: Jack

Jack swallowed the last mouthful of his dinner and pulled a face. Perhaps pulling Evangeline out of the kitchen wasn't such a good idea. It was all very good for Pintel and Ragetti, who didn't seem to care what they ate as long as they could fit it down their throats, but for more civilised folk like Jack this simply was not acceptable. He could see that Evangeline didn't exactly approve of the sudden drop in food quality either, but he wasn't about to put her back in the kitchen. Not at this delicate state she was in. Plus, she had also proved to be a rather valuable asset to the crew. There hadn't been that much work to do on deck that morning- the seas were flat and calm and, well, boring- but she always found herself something to do (none of them involved swabbing the deck, incidentally). She hadn't uttered a single complaint, either. He had seen her examining her hands unhappily after hauling up a particularly difficult sail, but she never said anything.

Who knew, maybe she was made out of stronger stuff than he thought.

She had finished her dinner too, now, which was just as well. Pushing his chair back Jack stood; the crew payed him little attention. "Evangeline," he called, raising his voice a little over the racket. She closed her eyes and sighed before standing sharply and looking at him demandingly. He crooked his finger and turned on his heel, marching out of the kitchen. As the door swung open before him, he heard stomping footsteps behind: Evangeline was following. He lead the way to his cabin where Gibbs was already waiting and promptly sat at his desk, contemplating the improvised charts Gibbs had thrown together from memory. He didn't look up as Evangeline entered, swinging the door shut and leaning against it with her arms folded and eyebrow raised.

She seemed to do that a lot.

"Did you want something, captain?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"This Hourglass of yours," he murmured, eyes scanning the charts. "We'll be there soon. Time to tell us what you know, sweetheart."

"Forget it, Jack," she replied. "I'm not going."

Jack blinked, surprised. Gibbs stared. "Pardon?"

"I'm- not- going," Evangeline repeated, enunciating each word and speaking as though Jack were a small child. "Sorry for wasting your time, but you know the argument." At this she cast a meaningful glance at Gibbs, and sure enough Jack knew exactly what she meant.

Evangeline turned on her heel and moved to leave, but Jack called her back. "So what do you plan to do later?"

She whirled around and pierced him with a suspicious glare. "What do you mean, 'later'?" she demanded. "There won't be a later. There won't be a me."

"Well, as far as I understand it we're essentially leading Angelica and Barbossa to the Hourglass," Jack said with a shrug. "So if we turn around, she'll never find it and you'll be fine. What will you do?"

Evangeline paused and Jack felt that familiar feeling of triumph swelling in his chest. He had stumped her on this one. "I can go back to the convent," she said. She didn't sound too happy about it.

"Do you really want to go back to that goodie-goodie place, love?" Jack asked, standing and moving towards her. She was facing the door again and standing rigidly straight. She didn't react when he drew to her side. "Because I won't be taking you back there. Besides, you never really belonged there. Blood of a pirate, and all that. Whereas if you stay with me, you get freedom." His head hovered at her left shoulder. "Rum." His head darted to her right shoulder. "And if we get to this Hourglass before our little friends do, there could be some gold in it too. What do you say?"

"I'm not interested," Evangeline said through gritted teeth.

"Of course you aren't," Jack said dismissively. "Which is exactly why we'll drop you off with Angelica when we see her ship."

Now this was the tricky part. The gamble. Jack waited with bated breath… But not for long. Evangeline whirled around to face him, eyes fierce.

"You wouldn't," she said in low, dangerous tones.

Jack shrugged. "Sure I would," he replied. "Why wouldn't I? The Glorifier's standards are obviously much higher than ours and far more suited to a fine young woman like yourself."

Evangeline's eyes dropped and her lips pressed together firmly. Jack smile glinted in the candlelight. "She'll be angry at you for running away, won't she? And especially for sailing with me and not sticking a sword in my guts. And she'll probably take you back to the convent."

Evangeline said nothing.

"So you see, love," Jack continued. "Your only options are to stay with me and stick to your original plan or go over the side in a rowboat and pray that Angelica will have mercy on you." He looked at her with raised eyebrows and waited for her decision.

"Let me see the map," she growled, thrusting a hand out. Jack swaggered off, rather satisfied with himself. "What's in this for you, though?" Evangeline demanded sharply. He turned to face her, eyes wide and innocent.

"Why, the pleasure of helping out my daughter," he replied sweetly. Evangeline glared at him.

"I'm not stupid, Jack," she said. "I know you're up to something. You don't do anything unless there's something in it for you."

Jack held up his hands defensively. "Listen, sweetheart-"

"Stop calling me that."

"I'm out of options, much like yourself. I can sail the seas and hope I never run into Angelica or Barbossa or I can take a chance with you and try to kill them both at your little Hourglass."

"The Turners?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What about them?"

"You could have stayed with them. Or asked for the Dutchman'sprotection."

Jack shrugged. "Their hospitality would have worn out eventually. And much like you Lizzy and Will are rather firm in the belief that I am a cowardly selfish liar. Don't know where they got that idea from."

"A complete mystery," Evangeline replied through pursed lips. Jack waited for more, but she returned to the map and said nothing. Gibbs caught his eyes and looked at him questioningly, but Jack just rolled his eyes and pulled a face.

"Angelica will stop in White Cap Bay to capture a mermaid." Evangeline's voice made Jack jump. "We can't afford to be slowed down."

"But we need a mermaid too!" Jack squawked.

Evangeline shook her head. "The cabin boy told me that the mermaid and the missionary escaped. Or, at least, their bodies were never found. My bet is, if they survived they won't have left the island."

Jack and Gibbs exchanged a look. "So you want to capture that mermaid on land," Jack said.

Again Evangeline shook her head. "I want to find them," she replied. "And see if by some miracle they managed to have a child."

Jack did a double take and Gibbs' jaw dropped. "A what?" Jack demanded.

"A child," Evangeline repeated. Her gaze didn't move from the map. "It's possible, barely. I want a half-mermaid's tear, if I can. Failing that, I'll just use the real one."

"Why?" Jack wanted to know. "That won't work, will it?"

"The ritual to use the Hourglass is a little less complicated than the ritual of the Fountain, but it does have it's tough bits," Evangeline explained, dodging the question. "The full ritual requires a mermaid tear mixed with grains of white sand. There's white sand on the beach of the island, so that's not too hard. Those grains are then to be put in the Hourglass, and the amount of sand put in depends how far back in time the user wants to go. It's one grain of sand for every day."

"But that'll take forever!" Jack exclaimed.

"Calm down, I only need to go back a month," Evangeline snapped. "Whereas Angelica needs to go back fifteen years. So, as well as capturing the mermaid she also has the sand to worry about, so even if we can't find our odd little couple we'll still have heaps of time."

"What about Barbossa?"

Evangeline looked at him. "Look, Jack, I can only tell you about Angelica. I don't know what Barbossa is doing. It's a gamble, but it's one we'll have to take."

"How does the Hourglass work?" Gibbs interrupted eagerly.

Evangeline looked at him doubtfully and paused before continuing. "Once the tear and the sand are mixed they'll be in a clump so the user has to break it up with their fingers and then pour it into the actual Hourglass while visualising the moment in their past they want to change. This takes immense concentration as the user must change that part of their life in their head. They can't physically go back in time- that's just stupid."

Jacks and Gibbs exchanged a glance.

"The user has to have a different scenario already planned out before they use the Hourglass," Evangeline continued absently. "The scene will play out exactly how it happened in their mind's eye, and then they just have to put in their own input. If their concentration is broken, the Hourglass is essentially useless for another century."

"So what do you plan to do?"

"If Angelica or Barbossa get there before us, we'll just have to break their concentration," Evangeline replied with a shrug. "Having said that, though, they could do the same to me if we get there before them. So I'm relying on you to take them out." She looked at him for the first time. "But don't kill them."

Jack peered at her curiously. "That's it?" he said.

Evangeline nodded and smacked her lips, but Jack could see that there was something she wasn't telling him behind her eyes. "That's it," she confirmed, putting the map down. "Can I go now?"

Jack stared at her for a few moments longer and she stared right back, waiting. With a sigh and wave of his hand, Jack nodded. "Go on," he dismissed her. She nodded her head almost imperceptibly, turned on her heel and slid out.

Silence fell between Gibbs and Jack. "What d'you reckon she's up to?" Gibbs wondered aloud.

Jack watched the door that had just slammed shut behind her warily. "I don't know."


	8. Chapter Eight: Evangeline

**A/N: Hello there… Just as another one of my quick notes: I actually didn't fully figure out the complete plot of this story until earlier today. Whenever I start a story it's usually because I've got one good idea and a possible ending but nothing in between. I knew how I wanted to end this but I didn't know how the end was achievable… It's hard to explain without giving the plot away BUT I had to remodel the ending from what I had because frankly Plan A didn't make any sense and wouldn't have read very well. So previous references to Evangeline's plan in other chapters probably won't match up with what her plan will actually turn out to be. Sorry about the confusion, I'll try to be more organized next time :P**

**Also… I just had to drag Philip and Syrena into this. I'm sorry. I just love them so much X3 There has been a request to somehow involve the Turners and Captain Teague in the story and while that certainly would be interesting it's really just too hard for the plot I have in mind **_**but **_**I already have another vague idea for a possible sequel which will hopefully involve Will at the very least. So thank you for the suggestion :) **

**With all that said I will now shut up and let you read the chapter :D**

God, how I hate hiking. After spending almost a week on a ship it's hard enough to walk without having to hack through jungle chasing after something that may or may not be there. And it's only made ten times worse when you have to haul a ship halfway up a beach because the captain is paranoid about it being torn to worthless planks of wood by psycho mermaids. We didn't see any, sailing in, but I know they're there. Female intuition, and all that.

We've only brought a few with us. Gibbs, because he knows where he's going; Jack, because he's captain; me, because I'm the whole reason we're here in the first place; Rocky, because he kind of knows how to cook; Pintel and Ragetti, because they're good for dirty jobs and Cotton, because he can fight if needs be and he can't complain about anything because he doesn't have a tongue. We're walking in that order, too, and you can tell Jack doesn't like being second. That would be _my _fault, actually- I thought it might be good for him to have his daughter put him in his place. I had vouched to have him go last, behind Cotton and his foul-mouthed parrot, but apparently that was too far. I'm not so sure why I'm third in line- I suppose it must be one of those captain's-daughter things.

That was a few hours ago, though. Now… Well, _right _now we're wading our way down a waist-deep creek (well, it's waist-deep on Jack. Up to my chest on me) and it is bloody _awful_. The water here is warm enough as it is, so the stagnant stuff is positively boiling. My white shirt is completely soaked through (just as well I've got another layer underneath, as well as a corset on the outside) and my boots are getting heavier with every step because all the mud and water is piling in. I've tucked my trousers into my boots but that hasn't worked out so well. _And _to top it all off I've lost the scrap of material I've been using to tie my hair up so I've had to squash it down underneath Jack's ancient hat.

Sorry, but it's just gotten to the point where I'm not having so much fun anymore.

And I'm not too happy about the effect this water will have on my phials of sand. I mean, they're watertight and everything, but just suppose Jack sees a snake and splashes around a bit and the water movement just happens to _lift _the phials out of my secret hiding place and send them bobbing off down the creek? We can't afford to go back now. She'll be suspicious if I'm late, and if she even smells the hint of a rat I'm dead meat.

Oh, shut up Evangeline. I'm worrying too much. If I start second-guessing myself, I'll just stuff everything up. I can't afford to lose focus now. Not when we're so close.

"Any idea where we be goin'?" Gibbs' voice, bellowing down from the front. Not so loud! I'm right here.

Pause. No-one answers. Rocky pokes the small of my back, and receives a glare in reward. A little too close to the lady bits, my friend.

"I'm guessing inland rock pools." According to the cabin boy, that's where the mermaid disappeared, anyway. "They won't be living too close to the water in case the other mermaids get angry or something like that, but they won't be completely away from water either."

A grunt from Gibbs. Probably could have done without the excess information, I suppose. Rocky tells me he used to work in the King's navy, so I suppose he's still a soldier at heart. Wonder if he used to have nice clothes? Wonder if he used to have a smoother accent, and cleaner hair? If _I _had a nice, comfy job like that, I wouldn't leave it for something like _piracy._

That being said… That's what I've done, isn't it? Abandoned my life of luxury to run off with my pirate father. The things I've done, the things I'm doing… It doesn't matter how you look at it: I'm turning pirate. It's not like it could be helped or anything, though. My grandfather was the most fearsome pirate in the world, my mother's had her fair share of piracy in her time while my father's hauling the long hours. Who knows, Jack's father might even be a pirate. I wonder if he's famous? I wonder if I'll ever meet him? Assuming I survive this, because if the walking doesn't kill me Angelica certainly will. If I _do_ survive this, I might just have to stay with Jack's crew, if he accepts me. And even if he doesn't, I can always find another pirate ship. Or just work on the docks somewhere like Barbados. What was that song Angelica always used to sing when she thought no-one was listening? _Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me._

Story of my life.

xXx

And I thought the creek was bad. Climbing out to stop for some impromptu food is even worse. Soaking wet and stinking and sitting in a hot, humid forest with mosquitos _everywhere _and forcing mush down my throat… I'll wade through the creek any day, if only to get away from this.

I'm beginning to wonder if a pirate's life is really worth it. When it all comes down to it, it's long months on the same ship with the same people and the same view and the same bad food and a total lack of hygiene. Maybe I'll just stick to Barbados. If these mosquitos don't eat me alive first, that is. Why don't you go bother Rocky? His skin is nice and thin and white. You don't want to bother with Spanish convent scum like me. I'm bread and wine and that's about it. Not much fun, my friend, especially if you've been eating it your entire life.

Gibbs is passing his wineskin around. There really is a God! Hurry up, Rocky. Whatever happened to ladies first? I'll be taking _that_, thank you. Oh, how I've been longing for sweet, sweet water-

This isn't water.

This is _rum_! This is _rum, _Goddammit, and it's foul! Thrusting it into Pintel's filthy hands and retching into the soil between my legs. You'd think I'd have a higher drink capacity, what with all the pirate blood in me, but alcohol is not what I need in a place like this. God, Gibbs, are you mad? Oh, shut up, Ragetti. I'm not deaf, you know, and I'll knock the back of your head so hard _both _of your eyes come out.

Sitting up straight again. Trying to regain a little dignity. Sitting up straight, looking down my nose at everyone (like how the noble ladies used to do in Spain), legs crossed neatly…

Hello.

What's this? A little scrap of white material, caught on a branch of the tree behind me. No-one notices me getting up; Jack and Gibbs are discussing strategies (or something of the sort), Pintel and Ragetti are trading filthy stories, Rocky is concentrating on listening in (the foul little git! No wonder he volunteered to go behind me.) and there's not much Cotton can do to raise an alarm because he doesn't have a tongue. Drawing closer, hand stretching out…

_Whoosh._

Gone. I may not be able to see you, my friend, but I sure as hell can hear you. You can't go trumping around a jungle like that and not expect to be heard.

The chase is on.

Tearing through the jungle. It's so dense, but the dress is white so it sticks out pretty well. Scraps of material keep getting caught on vines and prickly branches, too, so it's easy to keep track. Ouch! Got slapped in the face by a thorny branch. There's probably blood, but there's definitely no time to check. I'm getting closer. This girl had short legs, and while she may be more adapted at running through jungles it takes her longer to straddle a log than it does me. So it's no real surprise when I grab her arm.

She screams and wriggles and puts up a bit of a fuss because she's a little girl and that's just what little girls do.

"Shh! Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you!" God help us if she turns out to be some kind of demon child and her big angry Devil father tears out and eats me. It really wouldn't surprise me if she was, though. Look at that face! Way too pretty, for a ten year old. And the hair is much too long. Probably hasn't had a haircut in her life. She'd fit in _perfectly _in a convent.

"Let me go, let me go!" She's a wriggly little bundle, she is. I have to grab her wrist with my other hand just to hang on.

"I will if you just answer some questions, OK?" Don't be such a baby. "Stop wriggling about or I'll never let you go."

That's done it. She stops instantly but her head hangs low and she won't meet my eyes. Rocky told me mermaids have killer teeth. Wonder if little ones do too? Please don't let her bite my foot off. _Please_.

"Good girl. What's your name?"

Mumble, mumble. Speak up, girl! "What was that?"

"Mary," she almost whispers.

Nice common name, Mary. Very Christian, too. A good start.

"What are you doing on this island?" Not that it's a tough thing to figure out, but it's no good blundering into a situation with no prior knowledge.

Mary looks at me with big brown eyes. "I live here," she replies simply.

Hooray! We're not wasting our time! "With your parents, yes?"

Mary looks suspicious. Watch it, Evangeline. "Of course," she replies, as if I'm stupid. "My father is a missionary and my mother-"

She cuts off and she doesn't look very happy. Whoops! My face must have given something away. Plus, I don't suppose her parents let her run around talking about her mer-mother. Still, she's said enough. Just as well she's not much older, or she probably would have caught on a while ago. I feel a bit bad about exploiting a kid, but there's nothing else for it.

"That sounds fascinating." Trying to sound nice without being patronizing or creepy. "Say, Mary, my friends and I don't have much food or water. Could you take us-"

_Whoosh_! What-? Who-? Blink, and Mary's crying and screaming and wriggling on the ground, covered in a net. Where did that come from? Oh. Of course. The pirates emerge from the bushes and after a quick quarrel about who gets the arms and who gets the feet Pintel and Ragetti stoop, holding her unceremoniously between them. What are you doing, you morons? She's just a child, this is hardly fair.

"What are you doing, you morons?" Heads turn, all at once. "She's just a child, this is-"

"Mary!"

Oh Jesus. Oh God. It's the parents. When did they get here? Seems like they just materialized from through the bushes. The mermaid, unfairly beautiful with her long brown hair and her big brown eyes and her long slender legs. The missionary, tall and rugged-looking. Both with an identical flash of fear in their eyes.

"Mama!" Mary squeals. Pintel and Ragetti look at each other, uncertain of what to do. "Papa!"

"What are you doing with her, you-" The missionary steps forward, face contorted horribly… But then he sees Jack, who appears to be hiding behind a leaf. They catch each other's eye and Jack straightens a little, smiling awkwardly. The missionary stares. "_Jack_?" he says incredulously. "What are you… How…"

"Long story, but we need her," Jack says abruptly, turning on his heel and marching off into the forest. Pintel and Ragetti look at each other, shrug, nod, and follow. Rocky, Cotton and Gibbs trail along behind and then it's just me and poor old Mary's parents. The missionary looks confused and angry and lost and the mermaid just looks desperate.

"You can't just take her!" she cries out, lurching after them.

"Jack!" the missionary bellows, following his fishy girlfriend. "Jack, come back!"

Never mind me. I'll just slip into the jungle after them. Excuse me… There we are. Now where's that flamboyant head of hair… Ah. Tripping and stumbling, pushing past Rocky and shoving my way over to Jack and standing in front of him unhappily. He just stares at me blankly.

"Jack, you owe them an explanation." Stonily. Quaver, all ye people, before Evangeline Sparrow's face of fury. "You can't just take their daughter."

Mary whimpers pathetically from somewhere along the line as though in agreement. Jack pulls a face. "But _why_?" he whines.

Roll of the eyes. Jack can be so insensitive sometimes. "Just leave it to me. Don't move until I get back."

And _back _we go. Tripping over the same vine, stumbling over the same log. Head down, concentrating on my feet-

Oh my God. What-? Oh. Sorry, Mr Missionary. I wasn't looking up, bumping into you was kind of inevitable. Just as well we found each other though, eh? Not in the mood for a joke, I see. Well then, straight to business.

Mr Missionary cuts across just as I open my mouth. "Who are you?" he demands. "You look familiar."

"I'm Jack's daughter." Breathlessly. Mr Missionary looks surprised. "It's a long story. Please, just listen to me. It's my fault your daughter has been taken-"

Whoops. Wrong thing to say. Mr Missionary doesn't look impressed.

"There's an Hourglass, near this island." Grasping at straws now. "It allows the user to change one thing in their past every century and I need a mermaid's tear to make it work-"

"You didn't have to take her away!" he snaps. Just shut up and listen, won't you?

"Mermaid tears don't keep and it was too risky to capture one from the Bay. I didn't intend for her to be taken so brutally- that wasn't my idea- but please, I need her. My life literally depends on it."

Mr Missionary looks torn. He bites his lips and his eyes flicker with indecision. Sorry, mate, but you haven't really got a decision to make. We're taking her, permission given or not.

Time for the trump card. I crawled around on Gibbs' floor for _hours _for this.

"Please, sir." Pulling out the crucifix. Waving it in his face. "I was raised in a convent. I won't let any harm come to her and I promise I will bring her back."

At that moment the mermaid appears at his shoulder, hair tangled and eyes wild and fearful. God. It must be horrible for a mother to be taken from her child. I wonder if Angelica feels like this now? Doubt it. Damn, damn, damn. Why do _I _always end up with the filthy work?

"Where are you taking her?" she spits, at me. Her voice is slightly accented, like she's not used to speaking English.

Figures.

"There's an Hourglass-" Mr Missionary begins to explain.

"You are looking for the Hourglass?" The mermaid's eyebrows furrow. "You will need a true mermaid's tear for that."

Sigh. "I know. It's a bit complicated but I need your daughter. I'm sorry."

"It'll take a lot to make her cry," Mr Missionary says grimly. "She's very tough."

Oh, terrific. Just what I need.

The mermaid seems to be concentrating very hard on my face, but then to everyone's surprise she somehow squeezes a tear from the corner of her eye and catches it on a fingernail. "Please," she whispers, holding it out to me. "Take it. Bring her back."

Scrabbling in my pocket for another vial, whipping it out and catching the tear. I can't meet her eyes as I put it back in my pocket. "Thank you." Very quietly. What am I doing? What have I done? I'm as bad as Jack, I'm a terrible person. I'm a _pirate_. "But I need your daughter. It's a matter of life and death. I'm so sorry, but I promise she'll be back in three days."

Turning to go before they can make me feel any worse about myself. Mr Missionary catches my shoulder; I stop. "Just keep her safe," he says quietly.

Nod. Are we done now? Trumping into the jungle, finding Rocky's signature hair and following the line to where poor Mary is dangling between Pintel and Ragetti.

"Put her down." Jack isn't the only one with a killer death glare around here. If she's not on the ground… Never mind. You lot seem to know what's good for you after all.

Mary looks terrified, but she relaxes when she realizes I'm using the knife to cut her free, not cut her to bits. Helping her to her feet. She pulls her arm out of my hand and glares at everyone.

"She walks with me." Any arguments? No? Good. Let's get a move on.

We've got some work to do.


	9. Chapter Nine: Jack

**A/N: LOOK! I ACTUALLY UPDATED :O Sorry for the wait and all of the updating and everything- as I'm sure most of you can tell I barely changed anything because at this time I find my imagination rather limited and I couldn't scrape up anything original or clever enough to pass as a legitimate 'Pirates' plot so I'm really sorry about that :s HERE'S A CLIMAX-Y SORT OF THING TO MAKE UP FOR IT :D Short story, I know… PLEASE ENJOY ANYWAY :D**

**As this is the climax-ish bit of the story I'd like to take the time to thank all of you amazing readers- my e-mail is currently refusing to let me see any e-mails the website sends so I have no idea if I get a new reader or review but I'd just like to give you all some recognition now :P THANK YOU! You're amazing for putting up with my indecisiveness :P **

Jack dropped into the water and pulled a face when a drop of water went in his eye as a result. As if to add to this, a wave of icy cold water slapped his back and sent him stumbling forward. The rest of the crew were already on shore, taking swigs of rum or pulling clothing tighter around their arms or emptying water from their boots. Jack hastened to join them, but even as he stepped forward he saw a shadow twitch just at the border of sand and jungle. Squinting, he saw it was Evangeline. Her long hair cascaded down her back, all the way down to her waist, but she still shivered. She glanced uneasily into the jungle and hopped from foot to foot- either she was very cold or very anxious to be somewhere.

Jack had known for a while now that there was something Evangeline wasn't telling him, but he knew there was no way he could get her to crack. And she was the only source of leverage or information he had- if he _did _see Angelica, he would play like Barbossa and threaten to kill her. She knew more than Gibbs and if Jack was honest she had been a relatively good source of entertainment. He couldn't let her decide she didn't like him anymore (not that she had ever really liked him in the first place) because as much as he hated to admit it, he needed her.

Keeping one eye on her, Jack moved closer to shore, mind whirring. What was he going to do? He had to be careful. They were at such a crucial stage-

Jack's heart leapt into his mouth as a pair of hands shot from the cold, shallow water behind him, wrapped themselves around his shoulders and yanked him down underwater. He was dragged across the sand, eyes wide open with panic and lungs completely emptied of air. He thrashed desperately and fought the urge to scream and let his lungs fill with water. His head turned and in the dim light that reached the murky water he saw the shine of a long, scaly, golden tail and a wisp of blonde hair.

So it was a mermaid, then.

He didn't have a chance.

Still. He scrabbled for his gun- but the gunpowder wouldn't work, it was wet now- why didn't he have a knife? He should get a knife-

Jack's stomach lurched as the sand beneath his back disappeared and he dropped down into deeper, blacker water. Seeing his chance, his feet flailed for a moment- _yes_! He found sand, and pushed with all his might. The mermaid was apparently taken by surprise and somehow, Jack did it. His face broke the surface and he gasped down air, spitting out the salt water that dripped onto his lips. He felt the mermaid's arms wrap around his chest, tugging him down again- New plan, new plan-

_BANG_!

The night, which had previously been filled with splashes and cries of alarm, fell silent all at once. Jack was convinced that in that split second when the bullet whistled past his ear his heart actually stopped. Now sitting in the water- the force of the shot had forced him onto his backside- Jack's head very slowly rotated and he looked over his shoulder; the mermaid floated in her back, face frozen in a mask of savage rage. A red blossom bloomed in the middle of her forehead even as she sank under the water, golden hair fanning out about her. Tendrils of red water snaked towards Jack with eerie purpose.

Heart now in full working order and making up for whatever beats it had lost, Jack slowly turned back to the shore where everyone stared, open-mouthed at the gun-wielder. Even Jack's jaw became slack when he realized who it was.

_Evangeline._

Her gun hand wasn't even shaking, but it hadn't moved from where she had taken the shot. Even she looked surprised at herself: Jack could see the whites of her enlarged eyes from within the shadows his hat threw over her face. She stood, ankle deep in the bitingly cold water, stiller than a statue. Her eyes met Jack's and they stared at each other blankly.

"You saved my life," Jack said dumbly.

Evangeline nodded, gun arm slowly beginning to lower. Her eyes seemed to have misted over and slid out of focus.

"Why?" Jack blurted.

Evangeline blinked and seemed to come back to earth. She stared at Jack for moments that seemed to drag on for centuries before her lips finally moved. "Because it was the right thing to do."

All of a sudden her arm dropped and she backpedalled madly out of the water, stumbling up the beach and shoving Gibbs' gun back into his stunned hands, moving as though she were in a dream. She resumed her place by the jungle's edge, avoiding everyone's eye and chewing her thumb anxiously.

Jack stared stupidly for a while before remembering that sitting on his backside in cold, apparently mermaid-infested water was a very vulnerable position and a bad idea. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled out of the surf, ignoring the shocked stares still darting between Jack and Evangeline. He examined the beach authoritatively, pretending he had complete control of the situation even though his head was swimming. Evangeline's reason seemed reasonably legitimate- she had been raised in a convent so she would have been taught that saving a person's life was a good thing to do. On the other hand, she would have also been told that murder was wrong. Of course, Jack was under the impression she had given up on the church. Maybe she just moved on instinct. Jack had never seen a beginner who could use a gun like that before… Maybe she was lying. Maybe she needed him alive. Maybe she intended to use him. There was no way to tell- she was impenetrable. There was nothing else for it: Jack would simply have to be on his guard.

"We'll camp here tonight," he declared loudly, trying to ignore the murmuring chatter that was drifting over from the crew.

"No." Jack whirled and saw that it was Evangeline, involuntarily stepping forward into the lamplight. Her tone was surprisingly sharp, and she realized it; her face softened and she looked away, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. "No. The half-mermaid tear may not keep. We should at least get moving tonight."

No-one argued. No-one agreed. Jack knew she was right, though- he cared little for the tear, but if Angelica or Barbossa were already here he should get moving. He was tired, and so were his men, so eventually he came to a decision.

"We walk for an hour," he said decisively. "No more and no less. Then we must stop and rest."

The crew absorbed this without comment: no-one was in a mood to argue. The usual crowd stirred themselves: Gibbs the guide, Roquefire the cook, Pintel and Ragetti the dirty workers, Cotton the spare and Evangeline, the source of everyone's problems. They assembled themselves in the same line: Gibbs the guide, Jack the captain, Evangeline the trouble-maker, Roquefire the cook, etc, etc. Without word, they set off into the dense jungle, alive with the sounds of night.

Jack jumped every time a twig snapped under Evangeline's boot, expecting betrayal at every turn.

xXx

Jack was the first up the next morning. For the first time in a long time, he was completely sober, which left his mind very clear and quite capable of coherent thought. As the walk had worn on, he had become increasingly uneasy, and was almost relieved when the hour was off and they could settle down for the night. Then the thought occurred to him that Evangeline- or anyone else- could quite easily kill him in his sleep and paranoia kept him wide awake until dawn. Of course, if Evangeline needed him dead she could have just left him to the mermaid. As the skies had gradually become lighter, Jack got the horrible feeling Evangeline was herding him like a pig for slaughter. But what on earth could she be herding him into? There was nothing for her to gain in his death, except maybe personal revenge. But he had inexplicably gotten the feeling she was over that sort of thing. Maybe, if her plan didn't work out, she wanted Angelica to still know Jack was alive like some kind of souvenir.

Maybe she was just a difficult teenager and wasn't worth wasting thought on.

They walked in for the day in silence, keeping strictly to the same order they had been following every time they had ventured onto land. Evangeline was eerily silent and unusually jumpy, eyes darting around and muscles constantly tensed like she was waiting for something to jump out at her. In such unfamiliar surroundings, Jack felt the same, but not quite to the same extent. It was strange to see such an alarmed expression on her face: he remembered the night he had discovered her existence, the unfazed way she had surveyed the _Pearl _and its crew, the unshakeable confidence that constantly followed in her wake with every swaggering step she took. Now she looked frightened out of her wits and her steps were short and sharp. She was certainly in a rush to be at the Hourglass… As the sun passed over the sky, largely blocked out by the canopy, Jack couldn't help but share the feeling. He didn't like the way things were going and wanted out as soon as possible.

Shortly after lunch, Gibbs stopped abruptly. Lost in his thoughts, Jack slammed right into him. He stumbled back, surprised, and knocked into Evangeline, who sucked in a startled hiss of breath between her teeth and jumped, almost landing on top of the cook. She didn't even snigger at his clumsiness.

This was very worrying indeed.

"We're here," Gibbs said softly. Behind him, Jack heard Evangeline's hand fly to the pockets where she must have been keeping the sand and the tear. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, her saw her muscles draw taut and her face harden, but there was still a nagging doubt in her eyes that unsettled him. Those eyes locked into his and she looked meaningfully over his shoulder. Jack whirled around and saw that Gibbs had disappeared behind a shimmering curtain of willow leaves, draped over what had to be a hidden entrance.

Jack blew out his cheeks, and followed.

He was met by a strange sensation of melding through something that was solid and yet, at the same time, not at all. In a moment it was over and he stood in a dimly lit cave. He turned and saw nothing but a boulder behind him, wet with water that trickled over it. As he watched, Evangeline melted through it and appeared in front of him. Their eyes met again, and though they said nothing Jack couldn't help but feel that she was trying to tell him something with that brief look he gave her before brushing past him silently and joining Gibbs, who had relieved an ancient, rusty bracket on the rocky wall of a flaming torch. Jack did a rather comical double-take, eyeing the torch unhappily.

They lined the walls at regular intervals, and despite the musty, undisturbed air of the cave they were all lit.

Which meant that someone had been through here very recently.

OK, just calm down. Think things through. Jack had been to plenty of supernatural places before. It was quite possible that these torches lighted themselves when someone entered the cave. And Gibbs wasn't stupid, he would have caught on as well. It must have just been the magic of the place. Yes. That was it.

Still unable to shake the feeling of foreboding snaking around in his stomach, Jack joined the line, this time taking his place at the head with a torch in hand. His free hand stayed close to his gun.

They moved down a wet tunnel. Water trickling from the walls and the roofs echoed unnaturally loudly, as did their footsteps slapping down on the wet rock. Jack wasn't sure how much time had passed since they had entered the cave but he was beginning to grow unsure of himself. Surely, if this was where the Hourglass was, they would have found it by now… The deeper they delved into the darkness, the jumpier he became until, just when he was about to turn back, Evangeline stepped forward and stood very close to the boulder directly in front of Jack. He craned his neck curiously and tried to see what she was doing, but she stood so close to the damp rock and her shoulders were hunched; he saw nothing. Then she moved a brown hand across the rock and it melted away, opening into another room made of rocks, with sunlight streaming in through some sort of hole in a roof and reflecting off the glass of a masterfully crafted hourglass. It was empty, but its lack of sand was made up for by the sheer beauty of the jewel-encrusted gold that held it together.

Greed overcame caution and Jack stepped forward, eyes locked onto the breath-takingly tempting gleam of the gold in the light…

He didn't hear the synchronised click of twenty bayonets until it was much too late, and he stood in the middle of a very deadly circle. More men in crisp British uniforms pounced on the rest of the crew, stripping them deftly of their weapons and holding them tightly…

All of them except Evangeline.

With a snarl, Jack's hand went for his gun and he whipped it out of his belt, pointing it without hesitation at the traitorous Spaniard's head and pulling the trigger without hesitation.

It clicked harmlessly. Of course. Wet gunpowder.

"Put the gun away, Jack." A soothing, smooth, unpleasantly familiar voice from behind. "If you try anything you'll be blown to pieces."

Jack turned, knowing exactly what to expect as he smiled winningly and winked back. She smiled amiably back.

"'Allo, Angelica," he grinned charmingly. "Had fun raising the kid to be a backstabber, I trust?"

Angelica Teach's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Almost as much as you did," she replied.


	10. Chapter Ten: Jack

Evangeline scurried over to Angelica's side and Jack couldn't resist snarling and lunging at her hatefully. He missed, of course: a sharp prod in his side from the tip of a bayonet was proof enough of that. Avoiding his eye, Evangeline dug in her pockets and brought out a vial with a single drop of liquid inside and another filled with sand before handing them dutifully to Angelica, who in turn pocketed them.

All the pieces seemed to slip together now- Evangeline had been so adamant about being alone when she collected the sand. Someone would have noticed if she began to gather fifteen years' worth of sand. She didn't want to be late because Angelica would be waiting. It answered a lot of questions, but it still left many unanswered.

"Want to explain?" he asked casually, trying to mask the fact that he was madly trying to think of a way out.

Evangeline seemed to spark back to life. "Well, for starters, I'm not your daughter."

Jack blinked. Now that he hadn't been expecting. He struggled to maintain his facial expression- he couldn't look hurt or surprised or anything. He held what he hoped was a straight face and raised only his eyebrows, like he was asking her to explain what he already knew for the benefit of those who weren't in the loop.

Still… Something didn't feel right. Evangeline's eyes were exactly like Jack's, her face exactly like Angelica's. How…? Ah. She tugged a white sleeve down and scrubbed at her face, removing a layer of make-up that made her skin look darker than it was. The reason she had accepted Jack's hat became clear now: she couldn't have her face melting off. She was distinctly paler without the powder, but it still didn't explain her startling likeness to her parents.

Jack cast his mind back to the first night he had met Evangeline. He had hoped that it was just a coincidence. The daughter claim had let everything fall into place, though, and Jack had grown so accustomed to it in a distanced sort of way that any other explanation just didn't seem possible. And yet, even as he watched, Evangeline began to look less and less like her supposed parents and more like a complete stranger. Her lips relaxed from a pose they must have been held in for hours on end and they looked less full, more thin. She scraped away a solid block of… something (Jack wasn't exactly an expert in the world of cosmetics) that made her nose look more like Jack's. He could see now that it was much smaller and slightly wonky, like it had been broken in a fight. She passed her sleeve over her eyes and it came away with black smudged down the white fabric and leaving her eyes looking much smaller, less like Angelica's. In a few seconds she seemed to undergo a complete transformation, and there were only three things that Jack could see that still made her look like Angelica and Jack, the biggest of them being her eyes. Even though they seemed smaller now, they were still the same colour as Jack's. As Evangeline seemed to finish, she locked eyes with him and held the stare very carefully, like she was trying to tell him something. Her face was smirking but her eyes… Jack could swear they were full of warning. But warning him of what? Not to move? He didn't see why she would want him alive, if he was just a stranger. Unless she was using him… He had been right in assuming that she was toying with him once, who was to say he wouldn't be right again?

"How very intriguing," he said, trying to appear unfazed.

"Indeed," Angelica said, beginning to walk in circles around the Hourglass. "Aren't you just dying to know more?"

Jack arched an eyebrow. "'Dying to know' might be a slight exaggeration, but I will admit that I am somewhat curious."

"I mostly told you the truth," Evangeline interrupted again, but she wasn't speaking with her usual Spanish purr. It was like she had adopted Rocky's accent, and it sounded unfamiliar coming from her lips. "I was raised in a convent, and Angelica did come back for me when I was about to be flogged."

"It was a happy coincidence," Angelica continued, shooting Evangeline a glance evidently meant to shut her up. "I needed a girl who looked relatively like you and me, who needed a way out and wasn't a stranger to deception. So I took her in saying she was my daughter-"

"Which was a lie," Jack said almost pointedly.

"-And we came to an agreement. She would pose as my daughter and lure you to me in exchange for my hospitality," Angelica continued as though Jack had said nothing. "After that, it was all just a question of how to find you."

"And how did you do that?" Jack asked, casually taking a seat at a conveniently placed rock. The bayonets followed him, but Angelica waved some of them off so she could see him more clearly.

"Once I heard about the Hourglass I knew it was plain sailing, so to speak," she said with a shrug. "I guessed that the location would be on Gibbs' charts, and if they weren't I had told Evangeline the directions anyway."

"You already knew how to get here?" Jack was surprised.

"My source told me everything- ritual and location. I got Evangeline to memorize it and then sent her off in Tortuga- I knew you would show up eventually."

"Lucky for you it was sooner rather than later," Jack said sweetly, shooting Evangeline a glance that promised an unhappy life.

But as he turned his gaze to her, she nonchalantly rolled up her sleeves again and flashed the inside of her left wrist to Jack. For the brief moment that the skin was exposed to him, he was certain he could see the roughly drawn outline of a flying bird- just like his sparrow tattoo. For a moment, he stared, and she met his eyes. Again, there was something there, but he just couldn't tell what. But after the appearance of the sparrow… He decided he had to trust her. He didn't want to, given the amount of times she had betrayed him, but she had saved his life once. She was a teenage girl; ergo, she was complicated. He just had to be smarter and quicker and try to figure out her motives. He had to roll with it.

For now.

He tore his eyes away from Evangeline before he could give her away, but he saw her slink into the shadows from the corner of his eye. He knew the signal well enough: it was his job, now, to distract Angelica long enough for Evangeline to do what she had to do.

"So, you got me," he said, holding his arms out almost magnanimously. "What do you plan to do now?"

"No-one can escape the law for long, Jack," she said sweetly. "You and your filthy little crew will be taken back to England to be publicly executed as the pirates you are."

Jack examined his nails nonchalantly. They were filthy. "What about you? I hope you haven't forgotten your own botched past. Not to mention your ancestry." He looked up and raised his eyebrows; sure enough, he saw her stiffen and look at her crew nervously.

The act of fear was hidden quickly enough. "Nice try, Jack, but my past treacheries were down to the fault of the cold-hearted pirate who forced me to do things I didn't want to," she said slyly. Jack didn't believe a word of it, and wondered how many throats had been slit to secure her a place as a privateer for the Company.

"Face it," she continued, obviously enjoying enjoying herself now. "You've lost. There's no way out. I've beaten you, Jack."

"Alright, I get it," Jack said irritably. He could no longer see Evangeline. She had practically melted into the walls of the cave. "But why did you sent Evangeline to get the tear and the sand?"

Malice flashed in Angelica's eyes, and for a moment Jack wondered just how much harm he had done her all those years ago. "I'm not completely undoing the day I met you," she spat, her composure slipping. "Just changing the flow of events. It took me a while, but I reconstructed a roll of events in which I turn you in the moment I discovered the truth and got to watch your execution before I…" She trailed off, and their eyes locked. Jack saw a mixture of hurt and longing and sorrow, and felt an unfamiliar and unwelcome sting of pity in his stomach. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had fallen in love with him. Before she had fallen into that hole Evangeline told him about. A hole she had never been able to claw herself out of, no matter how hard she tried.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, anything, but at that moment there were several cries of alarm and a clang of metal on stone. Jack whirled and saw several soldiers sprawled on the ground, weapons just out of reach. There was a split second of confusion, but that was enough. Jack's crew lunged forth, scooping up the bayonets and sending soldiers sprawling. Jack sprang into the fray, and heard Angelica say something in very angry Spanish. He scooped up whatever weapons he could find, skewering a sword in the guts of any soldier who attempted to obstruct him.

He heard the footsteps just moments before the sword ran him through. He whirled and only just parried it, jabbing swiftly in response to Angelica's attack. Her pretty face was contorted in a snarl, and Jack saw all those conflicting emotions reflected in her eyes again. Betrayal, hurt, anger, sorrow, longing, hope, pleading. But what did she want him to do? She knew who, and what, he was. A liar. A drunk. A cheater. Dishonest. Disloyal. Wasn't that the rugged scoundrel she had fallen in love with? Why did she so badly want him to change?

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Evangeline, pouring a silvery liquid into a vial of sand with trembling hands, eyes wide as she began to tip the contents out into the Hourglass.


	11. Chapter Eleven: MultiPOV

**A/N: Ergghhhh I am SO sorry about my massive hiatus! was being a bitch and wouldn't let me upload anything :( I would've included this notice in the previous chapter, but I was so excited at finally being able to upload it I just couldn't wait! So now to make up for my huge lack of update you've got a multi-POV chapter. The next chapter will be all-Evangeline, I promise!**

I'm so close. Closer than I have been for months. Probably as close as I'm ever going to get. All those hours of planning, every single carefully orchestrated moment, has led to this. I've put so much time and effort into this it's crazy. It's pretty much the equivalent of my life's work.

So why am I surprised when Jack ruins everything?

I can see his blurry face through my peripheral vision. I try not to focus on it, but too late my eyes stray. He doesn't look betrayed, or angry. Just confused. Which I can understand, because I've crossed everyone two times over and even my head is spinning, and I'm the orchestrator of all this deception. Angelica follows his eyes and doesn't look alarmed: I prompted her into making an agreement that I would complete the ritual for her if she was unable, which currently she is.

Almost in slow-motion, I see her begin to attack Jack, who is still trying to figure out what's going on in my head. I see her pull the sword out of Jack's parry and, with a look of glee that makes me wonder if she's totally conscious of what she's doing, begins to thrust it towards his unguarded belly.

It's only been, what, a week? But the memories are overwhelming. The first time I saw him, my first night on the ship, being thrown into Rocky's care, every outrageous story I was ever told about Jack. Arguing with him, him giving me his hat, working until my hands bled. My first mouthful of rum, walking with poor little Mary through the jungle, leading everyone here.

And if Angelica had never heard about the Fountain, none of it would ever have happened.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like every moment was paradise. There were days when I hated pretty much everyone and everything I set eyes on. But throw it all together and compare it with the convent? It was heaven. It was the most fun I've ever had in my life, and probably ever will have because if I get out of this cave, chances are my life won't go on much longer after that.

Back to the present. Jack is about to die, because he's too busy ogling at me. Idiot! They told me he was a survivor, that he knew what he was doing. Yeah, right. I'm beginning to think he wouldn't survive a day if it weren't for me.

So just before the tear falls into the Hourglass, I straighten and throw the tear- the _real _tear- at Angelica's head.

It shatters upon impact, and it certainly doesn't kill her, but that wasn't what I was hoping for. She's startled, and Jack's attention is brought back to the woman trying to kill him. Taking advantage of her disorientation, he gives a deft little wrist movement and her sword clatters across the cave floor.

He has _got _to teach me how to do that.

I draw my own sword- a little cutlass I was given as a precaution- and launch myself into battle. Considering that Angelica's men stripped all of the pirates of their weapons, they've worked pretty well. I guess they had the element of surprise on their side, but you can't help being impressed when you see Rocky sitting on a soldier's back and slamming a rock down on his spine before leaping back into the fray. He sees me and begins to move towards me- oh man, he is _so _pissed- and before I can react he's got me pinned to a cave wall. In the midst of fear and not having to pretend anymore, my face relaxes and I vaguely remember that I'm supposed to be slackening my face so I look less like Angelica. Then I remember that doing that will probably make things worse.

"Don't!" I gasp. Rocky's face is twisted with fury, but I can see that he's doubtful as to whether or not he can kill me, his pretty little kitchen hand.

"Give me a reason!" he hisses. I've never seen him this angry before. Maybe it's because his only friend has betrayed him.

"I'm trying- to rescue!" I manage.

"And why should I believe you?" Rocky demands, voice low. We're vulnerable here, but everyone seems otherwise distracted.

I try a winning smile, but it's hard when you're being strangled. "No- choice?"

Rocky grudgingly admits I'm right, and lets me fall. I pick myself and try to look in control again. I can't afford to be attacked again. We need to get out of here, _now_.

xXx

Jack didn't feel any distinct pang of betrayal or turmoil when he saw Evangeline tipping out the contents of the phial. He was just confused. She had told him that she was going to the Hourglass for her own personal gain, but that had obviously been a lie. So was she trying to do if for Angelica? That was impossible. There was no way she would be able to clearly recreate Angelica's ideal image to perfection. How could Angelica trust her with such a massive job? Unless she had crossed Angelica as well. There was the sparrow drawing to consider… And, although Jack's vision wasn't completely clear, there was something about Evangeline's face that had changed in the last few moments. Where before it had seemed dopey and slack, now it had bounced back to a face Jack was vaguely familiar with. What was going on here?

Inevitably, their eyes met. Evangeline blinked, like she was being jerked back to the real world, and then her eyes- Jack's eyes- widened in alarm. After hesitating only a moment longer she straightened, held the phial over her head and threw it with all her might at… _Angelica._

Jack followed its progress through the air, and couldn't help laughing when it hit her head. His laughter was cut short when he noticed just how close Angelica had come to killing him when he had been distracted. Angelica blinked, clearly affronted by the flash phial-attack. A tear welled in her eye and for a moment Jack was confused, then he saw just how silvery the liquid that rolled down her cheek was and realized that she had just cried a mermaid tear.

If he was a sentimental man, which he wasn't, he might have paused to write a poem about the beauty of it all. Instead, he separated Angelica's hand from her sword and sent it flying through the air to land with a _clang _on the wet cave floor that was dulled by the sounds of fighting that surrounded them.

Now, with Jack's sword at her throat, Angelica looked afraid. Not overwhelmingly so, but there was that note of alarm in her now-wide eyes, a certain way that her body stiffened that told Jack just how much she now feared for her survival. And he could end that all now. When he thought about it, thrusting forward now would end all of this turmoil and anger and sadness that bubbled up inside her. He could end all of that. He would be doing her a favour, wouldn't he? She would rather die in battle than an old, angry woman. Right? He should do it. He could do it. Right now. There was nothing to stop him. It would be a mercy. He should kill her, right now.

But no matter how much he willed his arm to drill forward and into her neck, it would not move. He couldn't kill her, because as much as he hated her, Angelica was the only human being he had ever come close to actually _loving_. Certainly, he had met many women in his time, but they were faces and names that were lost in the bedsheets after one night. Angelica's name never left him, her face, her fire. She had haunted him for all these years, and had returned in the flesh when she dared to impersonate him. And he was terrified. He assumed that she would kill him the moment she saw him, but she didn't. Because she was using him? Probably. But no matter how cynical Jack was about her intentions, part of him wondered if maybe, just maybe, she had been faced with a choice much like his. And maybe she had faltered too.

Bah. Jack wasn't a sentimental man. He was thinking far too deeply. He should just skewer the woman now and be done. All of these stupid thoughts would leave him alone for good… Except for Angelica's ghost. She would find a way to escape the Locker and torment Jack for the rest of his life. In life or in death, Jack would never escape Angelica Teach. They were bound by some sick joke. They would keep running into each other, and they would keep trying to kill each other, and somehow that fatal stab would always miss because it was all just a game with something more hidden very deep underneath. Something that was a mixture of hope and longing and, he may as well say it, love. He could never settle down, and she knew that. So until then they would be content with stabbing and thrusting and missing and kissing.

So, leaving a faint cut across Angelica's throat, Jack tore the sword away from her, grabbed her wrist as it moved to punch him and pulled her into a kiss she pretended to resist. He didn't linger any longer than he had to, because he knew that one second too long and he wouldn't leave. So he stood straight and winked, grinning a charming grin as he shoved his sword back into its scabbard. Angelica pretended to look angry, but Jack could see the surprise and, as per usual, hope in her eyes.

Jack saluted. "I win," he grinned.

"PIRATES!" Angelica and Jack's heads turned as one. They saw Evangeline herding the pirates through the exit, guarding them with her drawn scabbard. "WE'RE LEAVING!"

_Now _Angelica looked angry. Evangeline had been her little spy, and now she had betrayed her. Of course, chances were this was another trap, but what other alternative did Jack have? Taking advantage, once more, of Angelica's confusion, he leapt over the wet rocks and dived through the exit, not daring to look back in case Angelica's broken face called him back.

xXx

Angelica stared in shock at the slab of rock through which her captives had disappeared. How had they gotten away so easily? How could she have been so stupid as to let Evangeline out of her sight? She liked the girl. She had considered telling her the truth, before she disappeared into oblivion. But she was a traitor! She was a liar. She was _just _like him, taking every and any opportunity to backstab whatever accomplices she had. How could she have been so _stupid _to think that she would be faithful? She hadn't changed since the convent. She was still a thief, she was still liar.

She was still doomed, Angelica realized. Evangeline had neglected to take Angelica's tear from her before she vanished. She wouldn't bother chasing after them: her revenge was right here, in this little phial. They would have no idea what hit them.

Dull arrows of guilt stabbed Angelica's gut as she clambered over the wet rocks to the Hourglass, ignoring her crew's requests for orders echoing in the cave around her. Evangeline was a liar, yes, but she was only young. She hadn't even gotten to know the truth. Was this really the right thing to do? Surely there was an alternative… Angelica shook herself. There was no other way. She didn't want to get rid of a child, but she wanted to get rid of Evangeline, because she was just a painful reminder of the past. Angelica couldn't hold onto the past any longer. She had to let go of them, of both of them. No matter how much it hurt, it wouldn't hurt much longer. Jack would fade away into seaspray in the ocean that was her mind. Certainly, she had loved Jack. But anything that she felt for him then was replaced only by irreparable damage and hurt that she wanted to be free of.

So, with trembling fingers, she uncapped the phial and tipped out the contents into the Hourglass, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to watch in case she changed her mind. She began visualising her alternative scene-

The ground shook. Angelica's eyes flew open, and all too quickly she saw the cave quaking, cracks appearing in the rocks, water shooting up. She looked down and saw a sizzling crater burned in the glass of the Hourglass where she had poured in the mermaid tear. Cracks appeared in the glass as dust and rock rained down upon Angelica's leather-clad shoulders.

She, too, began to shake with fury. She had been _tricked. _Evangeline had been lying all along. She had given her a fake tear, and now the Hourglass would not be useable for another hundred years. Angelica's only chance of escape was destroyed.

"SPARROW!" she screamed furiously.

xXx

They tore through the jungle like wild animals, sending the real wild animals scampering into the undergrowth. No-one spared any time for speech: the only sounds besides the crashing of the jungle was the sound of their harsh breathing. Evangeline lead the way, and no-one questioned it. Even if she had betrayed them, she was now also saving their lives, and no-one was about to complain.

The ground shook, and Evangeline stopped so abruptly Jack almost slammed into her. She turned, eyes wild as she listened to the sounds of people yelling in fear, the echoing crashes of rock on rock. And an infuriated cry that sent a shudder down Jack's spine:

"SPARROW!"

"Time to go," Evangeline said tightly, turning on one heel to continue running. Jack grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back.

"Just what the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"I tricked you, and then I tricked Angelica," she panted impatiently. "Can we go now?"

Jack let her go and followed her. She wasn't running- she was holding her side as if it pained her- but her steps were quick. Jack kept up easily enough. "So you basically lied to everyone to get what you wanted," he said slowly.

Evangeline nodded, but said nothing.

"Good trick," Jack said in admiration. "Where'd you learn that?"

"My father," Evangeline panted, looking around as if to check the coast was clear.

Jack straightened, chuffed with himself. "He must be a very dashing young man," he said pompously, before remembering that he actually wasn't Evangeline's father.

"Yes," Evangeline agreed vaguely. "But he'll be dead soon too if he doesn't hurry up."

Jack wasn't sure if she was talking to him, but he obliged anyway. Once she had her breath back she started running again, much to the rest of the crew's disgrace. Eventually, out of breath and drenched in sweat, they stumbled out onto the beach.

"Set sail!" Evangeline gasped, doubled over with her hands on her knees. "Get us out of here."

"I concur with the small one," Gibbs grunted. It was the first time Gibbs had ever concurred with a woman.

The sound of startled voices and a furious woman drifted over to them through the jungle. Jack and Evangeline exchanged a glance, and Evangeline straightened immediately and marched to the boat.

"Time to go," Jack agreed.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Evangeline

Ah, the captain's cabin. A place I like to think I've become very familiar with over the last week or so. Considering my social status, I seem to have a knack of ending up in the dwellings of important people. The captain's cabin, the First Mate's cabin, and when I was on the _Glorifier _I had very high standing as the captain's daughter. So I guess it's nice that I'll die in an important place, because it's now incredibly unlikely I'll live to tomorrow morning.

Jack throws me down on the seat. We didn't really stick around on deck to see the beach fade away into the night: as soon as we were on board, Jack grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me in here. Not very dignified, I know, but I figure I'm in no position to complain. So, for once, I say nothing as he glares down at me, hands on his hips like an angry parent. Which he is, I guess.

"The truth," he says shortly. "From the top."

I take a breath and close my eyes. I knew this was coming all along, assuming I survived the Hourglass. It's probably for the best that I finally tell someone. "The first part that I told you was mostly true," I say, and Jack lifts an eyebrow doubtfully. I elaborate. "I was raised in the convent where you met Angelica, and I was about to be punished when Angelica came in and told them I was her daughter. Once everything was sorted out and we were in the carriage she told me we weren't even remotely related but I resembled her and she needed me for a job. She told me she only told the nuns I was her daughter because she needed a legitimate excuse to take me out."

I look at Jack to make sure he's understanding all this, but his face is harder than a slab of granite. "We sailed on the _Glorifier _for a few months," I continue. "She warmed up to me but she still wouldn't tell me what this job was. Then, one day, we captured a pirate." I look at Jack. "The man who told Angelica about the Hourglass in the first place was Barbossa. That's how he knew."

There it is. The confusion is evident on Jack's face. I take a mental picture before continuing. "Angelica captured him and interrogated him in her cabin. I listened at the door. He offered her the ship for his freedom, but she said she would take it when he was dead anyway because it rightfully belonged to her. Then he started asking about me." Talking about it feels like a blow in the gut, just like it did the first time I heard it. "He wanted to know… He wanted to know if he could take me back to England and make Angelica some money by selling me out there. Angelica didn't reply and he remarked how alike she and I looked, and how I had your eyes. Angelica gave in and admitted that I really was the bastard of Jack Sparrow and Angelica Teach."

"So when she said you were her daughter the first time she was telling the truth," Jack summarizes. I look into his eyes to see what he thinks of being my father, then not being my father, then being my father again, but it's impossible to tell what's going in that head of his.

I nod. "Barbossa saw his chance and told her what he knew about the Hourglass. Angelica had never heard of it before. I think her initial plan for me was to send me aboard your ship, gain your trust and then kill you, or something. Angelica began contemplating the possibilities that she could undo the day she met you, which would mean that I would cease to exist. So that night I helped Barbossa and his crew to escape in the hope that he would be able to find the Hourglass before Angelica.

"That was when we started putting the plan together," I explain, remembering the long nights in Angelica's cabin, talking strategy and lies. "It was more foolproof than hoping Barbossa would get there before she did. I acted like I had no idea what she was doing and pushed her plan in a direction that worked for me and didn't seem suspicious. She went on ahead to White Cap Bay and I made a signal to show her what way to go to get to the Hourglass. She went on ahead while we looked for the mermaid."

"But you betrayed her," Jack said, catching on.

I nod. "My goal all along was to get the half-mermaid tear, because I knew it wouldn't work. Assuming I couldn't find her, I was going to catch a mermaid and get a real one, and then put off giving it to Angelica for as long as possible."

"But you already had a real tear," Jack says, starting to get confused again. "You threw it at Angelica."

Another deep breath. "The girl's mother gave it to me before we left the jungle," I explain. "Her real tear in exchange for her daughter."

Jack can tell that he's getting close to something juicy, because his eyes light up. "So why did you throw it at Angelica?" he says, almost challengingly. "You were close to getting what you wanted."

I take the time to throw him a glare, but of course it doesn't work. He is as immune to my glare as I am to his, because in the end they're both the same. I'm not huge on talking deep and personal, and the Rocky confessional was bad enough. Now I have to tell Jack that he left such a good impression on me as a father after one week that I saved his life. _Not _high on my to-do list, I have to say. "I didn't go through with changing the past because I didn't want to erase being here," I say shortly through gritted teeth. Jack looks very pleased with himself for squeezing that out of me, but I don't let him bask in the glory for too long.

"What I gave her in there was the fake mermaid tear," I summarize. "So now the Hourglass is useless for another hundred years and Angelica probably wants us both dead because I saved your life." Putting some stress on the last few words so he doesn't forget that a mere teenager with next to no fighting experience saved his skin.

Jack nods contemplatively. "And you've crossed both of us before, so how do we trust you to save us again?" He fixes me with a piercing stare.

I swallow, but otherwise force myself not to let my fear show. I've known this was coming. I accepted it when I came up with my big plan, that I could be shot dead at any moment. In battle by accident, or on purpose for being a traitor. As the nuns in the convent never tired of telling me, I am a wicked creature eaten up in sin, and no good is to ever come from that.

"You can't," I reply, looking him straight in the eyes. My voice is so dangerously calm I even surprise myself.

Jack's finger runs along the cold metal of his pistol, gazing absently at me, but he doesn't need to throw in the gesture for me to know what he's thinking. Angelica has her fingers in so many pies that if Jack decides to let me live for whatever insane reason, I'll probably be killed by East India agents within six months of freedom, because I am _not _going back to that convent and he knows it. Not after seeing the things I've seen. No, there's no hope for someone like me anymore. I'll be dead within the year anyway, might as well shoot me now. Get it over with. Save me the trouble, because I'm such a screw-up I'm bound to even stuff up dying when it's most needed.

"What would you do?" Jack asks suddenly.

I blink, taken aback by the question. "Beg pardon?"

"If I let you live," Jack elaborates. "What would you do? Where would you go?"

I frown and look at him suspiciously. I don't know where this is going or why he's asking me if his trigger finger is practically twitching, but I answer anyway. "Barbados," I tell him slowly. "Work on the docks. Find something."

"And pray that Angelica doesn't find you?" Jack says with raised eyebrows.

I shrug. "Pretty much." My eyes narrow. "Why? What are you thinking about?"

Jack begins wandering around in circles, shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, say, if you were to be pardoned…"

He's started spinning the gun expertly around his finger. I keep my eyes trained on it. "Which I won't be," I point out helpfully.

"But just say you _were_," Jack says suddenly, turning his wild eyes onto me. "We could take you back to England as Angelica Avi's daughter, which in itself would set you up with a decent life, and no-one would have any rights to execute you."

My eyes narrow further. "_Why_," I demand.

Jack flashes a grin. "Because it helps to have someone high up to pass on information," he says slyly.

Oh, and you want _me _to do that? _That's _why you've kept me alive all this time? As if! I don't buy it. "You could have wormed your way into any bedroom," I say with a snort. "Why use an inexperienced kid?"

"This is quicker," Jack shrugs, looking away.

Realization dawns, and my jaw drops as my eyes widen. Oh _no_. Surely not! But… Yes! Oh, revenge is sweet. "You don't want to kill me."

Jack whirls around like I've jabbed him with a hot poker. "Do so!" he squawks defensively.

"Do not!" I laugh delightedly at Jack's embarrassment. "The great Captain Jack Sparrow can't bring himself to kill a dead girl walking!" Jack's eyes flit to me again, and his expression is unreadable. "You know I have no hope out there," I say. The laugh is in my voice, the smile is on my face, but they're both in bitterness. "Imaginary pardons or not. Angelica will find me, and send someone in to kill me. I may as well just jump off the ship now."

"How do you feel about blackmail, Evangeline?" Jack asks suddenly, examining the wall.

Don't try to change the subject. "Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not!" Jack says defensively. "I'm trying…" He trails off.

I grin, sensing the sensitivity of what he was about to say. "Trying to what?" I tease.

"With you alive, I get both a valuable information source and leverage," he says stiffly, avoiding my eye.

My grin fades and is replaced by a doubtful expression. "Assuming I'll play along," I point out.

Jack turns and grins at me again. "Oh, I think you will."

I can't help it- I'm interested. Keeping me alive is impossible, but I'm only human. We have a natural instinct to want to live, and why should I be any different? Humans really are no different from animals. Give us a strand of hope and we'll cling to it like there's no tomorrow.

I play it cool, though. I won't let him know that I'm interested. I can't let him have the upper hand here- not because of some deep psychological reason, just out of pride. So I settle back in my chair, throw one leg across the other and throw him a smarmy, almost doubtful smile. "Convince me," I say simply.

"You're a lot more like me than you think," Jack says with a sigh, polishing his pistol. I keep one eye on the weapon, ready to spring.

"Oh?" I lift an eyebrow.

"Oh," Jack confirms, turning to grin at me. "You can't resist it, can you?" he asks softly. I refuse to let my face betray my mind. "The adventure. The adrenalin. The fighting. You can say what you like, but after a lifetime in that convent this week has been the best of your life."

He's right, of course. And he knows it, too. But I still play it cool. Hard-to-get. "So?"

"_So_, if I keep you on land as a correspondent of sorts, you could go on all kinds of adventures," Jack says airily.

"And what, exactly, would I be corresponding?" I ask. Keep it theoretical, Evangeline. Don't let him know that you're considering it.

Jack shrugs. "Whispers. Rumours. Government ships with minimal guards. Impossible stories. Ghost stories. Anything you think I would be interested in," he finishes with a smile, gesturing at each of us in turn.

I give him a coy smile. "And why would I betray my country for _you_?"

Jack's face lights up. "You won't be!" he says cheerily. "If you agree, we'll be dropping you off in Jamaica. Port Royal, heard of it?"

I narrow my eyes. "A little," I admit. "But what's the catch?"

"There isn't one," Jack says innocently.

I snort. "Oh, yeah _right_. You never do anything unless it's for your own personal gain."

"Your information is my gain," he points out.

Damn. He's right. "How are you going to guarantee my safety?" I ask. Because he will, I know he will. If all goes well, I can get him onto any ship, anywhere. I can give him the entire sea. He won't risk me getting killed, I'm much too pretty for that. "You mentioned blackmail."

"So I did," Jack agrees. "One thing you and Angelica have in common is a sentimental streak."

"You have it too," I point out.

Jack ignores me. "It's highly unlikely that she will ever actually kill either of us," he says contemplatively. He's started pacing now. Looking very philosophical, stroking his beard. God, but he's an idiot. "It's a game, she won't have the guts to actually get rid of us."

"Oh-kaay, what's this got to do with me?" I demand.

"She'll be following us," Jack explains. "We slow down until we're just out of range and I tell her to leave us- both of us- alone or I'll kill you."

It all falls together. "And she'll believe it because you'll be pointing a gun at my head," I say with a nod. "You really think she'll let us go?"

Jack grins. "I know she will."


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Evangeline

**A/N: FLAKSJASLKH! CHAPTER! FINALLY! I'm so sorry about the huge wait, I suffered a massive lack of inspiration and motivation :/ We're almost done now, too! But I do have a sequel planned :) It's just a question of whether or not I'll be able to make myself write it… Sigh. **

Funny, how death reshuffles your priorities. One moment you're risking everything to save your life, and the next your standing on a ship full of pirates with a gun pointing at your head wondering if any of it was worth it. OK, so Jack _said _the gun wasn't loaded. He also _said _that the First Mate's cabin would be a fine place to sleep and accommodation worthy of a lady. The man's a performer- who knows how far he'll go to make it convincing? Because it has to be convincing, otherwise the bullet through my head will be Angelica's, not his.

Dear me, dear me. What have I gotten myself into?

I squirm uncomfortably in Jack's headlock- exactly the same position I was in a little over a week ago, would you believe it. Either this is a very common manoeuvre or Barbossa taught Jack a few tricks at some point in his undoubtedly long life. Of course I'll start struggling right and proper once we can actually see Angelica's bloody boat, but no point in tempting Jack's finger to slip on the trigger unless I have-

_What was that?_

The sound of water slapping against a hull. Ours. But wait… There's another one. Out of beat. The clinking sound of weapons being drawn carries across the water through the night. Oh, they thought they were being quiet, but we were being even quieter. We could hear a sparrow farting at the Hourglass if we kept this up long enough.

A rustling of clothes that sounds deafening in the silence, and terrifying when you consider the numbers of muskets being raised at this moment. I can't see anything behind me but I'm assuming our crew is just as trigger-ready. God, they had better be. Because I swear-

"Stop!" Jack bellows at the top of his lungs and I give an involuntary, startled squawk as he drags me across into swinging yellow lantern light. "You shoot me, I'll shoot her."

There's a viciousness in his voice that scares me a little.

"Stop!" Ah, there it is. That twangy, fierce voice I have come to known so well. Ladies and gentlemen, my mother: Angelica Teach.

Jack kicks the back of my ankle. Oh yes. Struggle, Evangeline. Whimper pathetically. No, on second thoughts, don't. She won't buy that.

The rage in Angelica's voice is barely contained. "What do you think you're doing, Sparrow?" she demands.

"Proving a point," Jack said charmingly.

On their boat, a light flares and distantly I see a flickering flame illuminating Angelica's face. Stone hard and _angry_. Two of the people she hates the most, assembled as one and united against her? That's gotta piss her off. "And what point might that be?" she asks tightly.

"That we are bulletproof," Jack grins, and seems to forget for a moment that he is holding me and waves the arm around my neck as if to gesture at the ship. I wobble and sway dangerously, but he eventually remembers I'm here and pulls me right back up again, jamming the pistol against the side of my head once more.

All in all, a short but immensely painful experience.

Angelica snorts. "You wish, Sparrow," she says brazenly.

"Oh really?" Jack challenges her. "You were quite prepared to shoot us down in a surprise attack- how very cowardly of you, by the way- until I pointed this here lovely deadly weapon at dear old Evie."

"That'll be Evangeline to you," I spit for good measure. I also kinda meant it, too.

Even from here, you can see Angelica tighten every muscle in her body in irritation. Because he's right, and she knows it. But no-one else can. It's a secret- a very badly kept one, but a secret all the same.

"What do you want?" she bellows across the gap. Two of the soldiers closest to her shuffle away nervously.

"A deal," Jack declares. "I intend to use this here lovely child-" Here he gives me a rough shake, as if there might be more than one lovely child on this ship and we just need to remember which one he's talking about. "As a mole in your precious elite."

Angelica seems to forget where she is for a moment, and forgets who she is and what has happened. Because her voice falters, and even from here I can hear her mutter, "She would never-"

"Not done yet!" Jack reminds her in sing-song. "She _will _do what I tell her because if she doesn't, I will kill her."

Angelica tries to put up a fight. "Kill her now! I don't care!"

"Yes you do," Jack snorts. Angelica doesn't reply. "However, if we're going to do this we will require your help. I'll drop dear little Evangeline off where I think she will be of most use and she will get herself a place among the goody-goody rich people because she is the daughter of Angelica Avi, which will be confirmed by Angelica Avi herself." Jack looks at Angelica pointedly.

"What makes you think I'll agree?" Angelica snaps.

"If you don't, we'll tell on you," Jack says simply, and from here you can hear the confused mutterings of Angelica's crew and practically feel the hate radiating off her skin. Everything she has built here, with her big fancy privateer license, could be so easily taken away if she doesn't oblige. All that power, down the drain- not to mention her life. Nope, can't risk any of that.

"What if I shoot you all now?" she demands.

"I've come back from the dead before," Jack says with a smile. "Don't doubt I'll do it again."

"He has a point," I add helpfully. "He's, like, best friends with Davy Jones."

Jack looks at me. "How did you know that?" he demands.

"Rocky told me."

"William Turner is _not _my best friend!"

"Well, I was just _saying_-"

"Enough!" Angelica, irritated as hell. Jack and I clamp our mouths shut and look at her like guilty children, and Jack kicks the back of my heel angrily.

"You got us in trouble," he grumbles.

I slam my boot heel down on his toes as hard as I can and he gasps in pain and loosens his grip. I could escape, but I won't, because there's no point. "Stop being such a baby."

"_Enough!_" Angelica repeats furiously. This time Jack and I really do shut up, and wait impatiently for her decision.

Of course, anyone with any sense would shoot us down on the spot. But that's the thing: Angelica is quite senseless. With love. Because deep down, she knows that no matter how long and hard her rage for Jack and I burns, her life will be unliveable knowing she was the one who ordered the bullets to pierce our hearts or heads or whatever. The very first time I met her, the first time I overheard the crewmen swapping stories about their fearsome and mysterious captain aboard the _Glorifier_, I thought she was a strategist, a fearful opponent. But now I know she's just a scared little girl who could never quite define right from wrong.

And I would feel sorry for her, except she's kind of threatening to kill me. So it's hard.

The men on both sides are becoming restless: the Queen's Navy have a reputation to uphold and here they are, holding fire on a pirate ship sitting right in front of them. The pirates? They're just seriously trigger-happy and like the smell of gunpowder. And I think Rocky might cry if he doesn't get to take part in any action on what is probably his first time on deck.

The silence seems to stretch for about two million years. I relax in Jack's arms, using him as a kind of human couch, but he shrugs me upright again unhappily. Right. I'm still supposed to look like I'm held against my will. I can't see Angelica's face as clearly as I used to: the lantern has begun to burn down. That's how long it's taking her to make a decision. Either way, her reputation is somewhat tarnished: if she lets us go, she's sure to be at least demoted and trash-talked by every soldier in the Navy. If she does try to shoot us down, we will reply in kind and Gibbs is already standing concealed at the helm, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Provided the kitchen remains the sturdy stronghold it has always been (you've got admire the architecture of anything that can withstand stinky pirates stuffing their faces with Rocky's pathetic excuses for food everyday), Jack and I should make it back to Port Royal to smear Angelica Avi's name before being hung for piracy.

I'm starting to wonder why I gave up my chance to change everything back at the Hourglass.

Finally, just when I think I'm about to collapse and die from old age, Angelica's strangled squeak spills from her mouth and tumbles down onto the deck, overflowing over the sides and racing over the water towards us. It sounds lovely in theory, but I only say this because the strangled squeak made no sense whatsoever. It was just that: a squeak. So you can see how I had the time to come up with that beautiful imagery just there.

"What's that?" Jack is being genuinely sincere about trying to find out what Angelica said, but I think the mocking edge in his voice comes by default.

"Go!" Angelica barks harshly. An explosion of murmurs sounds from her crew: the clinking of muskets as they turn to stare at her, muttering almost conspiratorially. Protests are raised, but no-one really pays any attention: minus the initial disappointed sighs on our side, our men are quickly preparing to disappear into the night without a trace. Jack and I stay still, though: just to remind her what will happen if she changes her mind and orders her men to fire. I hold her furious gaze fearlessly before I remember I'm supposed to be the damsel in distress. Even as I think this, her eyes move away from mine and lock onto Jack's. Even though we're beginning to drift away, you can't fail to notice the intense hatred blazing across her face. I have never seen anyone look as angry as Angelica does now. But even as I watch my ultimately confused parents stare each other down, I see her eyes soften for a moment. Like she's looking at Jack and I together, instead of just two separate pieces of a puzzle. Looks at us as what we are: her family. The only one she has left. And even as she fades away into the blackness, I could swear the ghost of a smile flits across her lips.

xXx

It's another week before we land in Port Royal, and even then it's in the dead of night. We manage to find a dress that fits me relatively well- well enough to get me up to the Military Office in this city, explain my situation and move into the big mansion they'd better have waiting for me, because I am tired and cold and hungry after so long at sea. I don't know how Jack stands it.

I stand, shivering, in the cold night air, clutching the voluminous dress in my fists and waiting impatiently for Jack to stop fluffing around with his crew and say goodbye. I know he wants to. Hell, _I _want to say goodbye to him. As painful as he may be, it's hard to just go fifteen years of your life not knowing who your father is, spend two odd weeks with him and then have to let him go again. I hate him, but he's still my dad. It's tough to ignore things like that.

Of course, if it was I probably wouldn't be alive.

I start hopping from foot to foot. I had to take a dunk in the bay before I came on shore, dress and all, so the whole shipwrecked story would seem more believable. It helps that I look and sound Spanish, too- the English Navy won't have any records to double-check with. I've got to hand it to him: given his general drunkenness, Jack really did think this one through. Maybe it's because I'm his daughter. I doubt it though.

"Oi!" I hiss through chattering teeth. "Did you follow me off that blasted ship for a reason or do you just dunk yourself into freezing black water for fun?"

Jack throws a glare over his shoulder, but he can put it off no longer. He drags his feet like it's a big effort to come and stand opposite me before throwing his gaze up at me demandingly. I glare right back.

"Did you want something?" he asks, in that quick way that makes it all sound like one word. _Didyouwantsomething?_

"Only wanted to know when you wanted the dress back," I grumble, not making eye contact, because even if we both want to say goodbye we're both too proud to admit it. "I imagine you must look stunning in it. Fits you perfectly, doesn't it?"

Jack begins to say something, but gives up, rolls his eyes and hands me a heavy sack. "Here," he grumbles, also avoiding my eye.

I weigh up the sack. Anything could be in it, from dead rats to overripe mangoes. "What's this for?" I demand suspiciously.

"Stuff," he sniffs, taking a sudden interest in his boots. "To, you know, ease your way."

I take a peek inside: it's filled with everything from more dreaded dresses to piles and piles of- yes, overripe mangoes. A bottle of rum, which must have killed him to part with. I hate the stuff, but I don't tell him this. I recognize and appreciate the gesture and I stay quiet, looking into his eyes and waiting until he does the same.

"Thank you," I tell him quietly. "For everything."

And before I can change my mind I hug him. For, like, two seconds. I squeeze him tight enough just so I impart some of the seawater imbedded into my dress onto him, because I need a good wringing out. We sort of shove away from each other and really avoid each other's gazes this time. The Port Royal breeze whistles between us until the hushed calls of the crew reach their captain, calling him back.

"Right- um, so, thanks for the, uh, the food," I babble in a rush, swinging the bag pointedly and almost knocking Jack over.

"Mm, yes, have fun with, uh, all this," Jack says at the same time, gesturing wildly at Port Royal rising up around us.

"Yeah- yeah, I will," I mutter, mostly to myself as I watch Jack march back to his beloved ship. Part of me can't believe that it's already over. I keep trying to tell myself that it's not over at all, I'm still Jack's spy here, but really- what are the chances of me finding _any _adventures for Jack or myself now? I'm a member of the elite again. I should be doing little more than waiting on my husband in some fancy old parlour.

The thought depresses me so much to the point that I call out after Jack, "Will I see you again?"

He stops and turns, and we stare into each other's eyes for a long time before he replies. And when he does reply, I know it's genuine because none of his crew are here to listen. His words are loud enough for me but quiet enough for prying ears not to catch.

"I hope so."

And then he climbs up the rope, hops back aboard the Pearl and sails away. Without a backwards glance. Without me.

I pretend to act annoyed, like he can still see me. But for one thing, it's tough to storm off in a dignified huff when you're tripping over your own dress.

For another, that last remark made me feel all warm and stupid and fuzzy inside and I kind of like it.


	14. Epilogue

_Two years later_

A young woman stands at the shore, the boundary between land and sea. On the horizon stretching out in front of her, the dim outline of a few ships can be vaguely made out. Behind her, Port Royal buzzes with the life of its daily hustle and bustle. Trade, social gatherings, brawls. It doesn't take an idiot to see that the woman doesn't usually venture to this part of town: the elite of Port Royal live at the top of the town, and living standards decrease from there until you reach the streets- filthy and crawling with peasants. No, everything about this girl from her glossy hair to her expensive dress reeks of rich.

And yet, here she is. Standing at the docks of Port Royal with, of all thing, a bottle of rum clasped in one hand. It is unopened, and she doesn't appear to be paying much attention to it at all. A present for someone, maybe. But for who?

A little old lady toddles up to her and peers curiously at the bottle in her hand. "Oh, my dear!" she exclaims. "I do hope that's not for yourself! It's not good for you, you know."

Which was rich, coming from her- everyone knew that she was one of town's biggest alcoholics.

The girl smiled from beneath the wide brim of her fancy hat and shook her head. "No, it's for my father. He comes into port today."

The old lady smiled a toothless smile. "Oh, how lovely. Is he a merchant sailor?"

My grin widens and I look out beyond my stupid frilly hat, at the vague silhouette of a black ship with black sails on the horizons. I don't even try to sound serious when I tell the old lady, "No, he's a pirate."

**A/N: …And that's a wrap! Thank you all so much for your support, even though I stuffed around with this a lot… You guys are amazing! Thank you times two billion trillion. I will try my hardest to get a sequel up and running as soon as I can- until then, a very good day/night to you all :) **


	15. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**A/N: Whaddup guys? Well, I did promise to you, and it's finally here: **_**Gates of Hell**_**, the sequel to **_**Hourglass of Tears. **_**In summary, Kalepi is an escaped slave boy with some secrets, and when Lady Evangeline Avi drags him into her dangerous world of piracy and magic he is forced to confront his demons- literally. Featuring chapters from both Kalepi and Evangeline's perspectives- and maybe some others, depending on how we go- it's plodding along. So if you liked this story, you should definitely check it out! Thanks guys **


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